


Black Valet

by clearinghouse



Category: Raffles - E. W. Hornung
Genre: Black Butler AU, Crime and Cricket, Dancing, Death But Not Really, Demon Raffles, First Time, M/M, Master/Servant, Sexual Content, Victorian Attitudes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 15:36:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8719282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clearinghouse/pseuds/clearinghouse
Summary: Black Butler AU. Harry Manders has formed a contract with a raven-haired, red-eyed demon from hell. According to the terms of contract, the demon must protect Harry from poverty and the miseries of life, and in exchange, the demon will have the right to consume his soul after his death. That’s all well and good, but Harry can’t understand why his evil servant is so charming in the meantime—and he doesn’t know that his end might come sooner than he expects.(You don’t need to be familiar with Black Butler to follow the story.)





	1. Chapter 1

I’d always known that time was against me. Sooner or later, my end would come, and the cheerful demon whom I had so recklessly employed would turn on his master and devour his master’s soul. This didn’t bother me so much as it might bother others with better outlooks on the afterlife. I was a nobody in life; I expected that, regardless of what it meant to live on after death, I would also be a nobody in death. Better to live it well in one world and then call it quits, I told myself, than to live poorly twice. Indeed, I did live well; my demon valet not only kept me living a life of luxury but also kept me company. It should be no surprise that he was flawlessly charming and companionable, as only a cunning demon could be. I might have thought of him as my enemy, if he wasn’t so very sincerely my closest friend in life.

This is the story of how I was confronted with the true consequences of my contract with such an outrageously dangerous creature as he. 

It all started on a dark night like any other, when my handsome, clean-shaven valet led me into a hansom that was summoned from the low-lit street. He bade the driver return us to my flat at the Albany.

“Which ones do you like better, my lord? The earrings, or the cufflinks, I should think?”

This was the question that Raffles posed to me, as he shared with me the bag of spoils of this latest heist that we were still making our getaway from. I shouldn’t have been as astonished as I was by the quality or number of sparkling gems that Raffles had managed to lay his hands on, while I had played the part of the distraction to a gathering of congenial fellows at a hunter’s club. Raffles regularly stole worse things than these for my sake. I never could accustom myself to his extravagant hijinks, however, even when I had been partner to them. I was agape with amazement.

“The cufflinks,” I answered enthusiastically. I did not have Raffles’ discerning eye, though I supposed the items in question were of particularly high quality.

“Then, they are my personal gift to you,” Raffles replied. “The rest, I’m afraid, will quite have to go. What a pity that these beautiful things are not as useful as a balance at the bank.” So he said, though the way he picked and played with the items suggested that he did not plan to part with them anytime soon. 

I hesitated for one moment; two; then I worked up the nerve to interrupt his reverie. “Raffles, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

“By all means, my lord.”

“Why do you go to the trouble of stealing jewellery for me like this? This is all quite a lot of work, and it’s not as if I’ve ever asked for jewels in particular.”

Raffles grinned spectacularly at me, in the cramped confines of the cab. “Ah, but your eyes don’t sparkle at notes like they do at the finer things, my lord.”

This claim went past my understanding. I had not contracted Raffles to steal things that I found pretty! I tried not to blush at his meaning, and shook my head. “That’s hardly a reason! For that matter, you fence most of it in the end, anyway, don’t you? Why don’t we skip the jewels and go straight for the notes, or why don’t you magically create money itself, or… work some other sort of magical trick in order to avoid all this burglary?”

“My dear Bunny,” Raffles laughed, and my cheeks burned at the diminutive nickname he had given me. “When I lay my hands on these beautiful trinkets, I steal from the rich and give to the poor. It is a crime, yes, but with very little damage done to the general welfare.” He spread his hands in an elegant gesture of magnanimity. “If I were to create my own money, however, I would inflate the currency for all the inhabitants of England. Don’t you see, my lord? By creating new money, I would be stealing from everyone with a pound to their name!”

I blinked at him, stupefied. I could not tell if he was being serious or not.

“Though, if I did stoop to taking such a shortcut… then, poof!” Raffles threw up his hands. “The romance of the business would be gone, and then what sort of servant would I be to you? Just a common one, doing the bare minimum to make the grade.”

Make the grade? That was a dynamite euphemism for satisfying a fatal contract such as ours, I thought.

“I am nothing of the sort. I have the dignity to take pride in a well-executed job, and the persistence to see it through.” Raffles briefly picked up one of the necklaces in the temporary collection that was technically mine but which he was treating as his own. He dangled it between his fingers. “I am an artist of felonies, Bunny.”

“You’re an absolute thrill-seeker,” I retorted, though my lips were stretching in the shape of a smile that I couldn’t fight well enough.

Raffles, that villainous devil, was grinning as well. “I must insist that I am an artist, my lord. I appreciate the art of others, and create it in my own way. The jewels, plates, and coins that I appropriate are pretty enough, but they would not be half so pretty without the mystique of the crime to haunt them.” Here he paused to consider my accusation. “I will allow that there is an excitement to the chase, as you suggest—one that I am sure you have never experienced properly, Bunny. I could use my particular abilities to simplify the game and avoid the risks, but humans cannot cheat at being cracksmen, and I play the game by their rules. So, I do know the thrill that there is to be had in passing oneself off as a thief in the night!”

My dark, handsome valet was surely a mysterious fellow. 

“But you know all about that yourself, don’t you, my lord? That’s why you come with me, I assume. Unless, you’re here to make sure that I don’t hoard any of the treasure to myself? No, I am sure you trust your flawlessly loyal valet more than that.”

“I merely like to see how you do it,” I protested, and that was mostly true. Raffles was only having fun with me; we both comprehended perfectly well that I only came with him when he went about town because I was hopelessly fascinated by him and his work. He was an enchanting kind of demon, who easily pulled me into his playful schemes with such enviable charm and vitality. “There’s hardly any thrill in it anyway,” I added, “while I know that I have you to protect me if things get rough.”

Raffles’ red eyes twinkled. “Oh, you would have me break my no-magic streak when you want saving, my lord?”

The accusation embarrassed me. I certainly did expect that he would put the safety of his contracted master above the need to compete with his human rivals, though I did not like the thought that I would be a hindrance to him. I wasn’t exactly the most helpful of allies, but I tried not to make myself a nuisance to Raffles. 

I liked to think that he valued my company. There was nothing mysterious or impressive about me, so he couldn’t have admired me in the same way that I admired him. Still, he seemed happy to have such an appreciative and curious audience to his enthusiastic work. We spent a startlingly great portion of our criminal outings simply talking and joking as if we were only smoking cigars back at the Albany. 

Raffles clapped me sympathetically on the shoulder, and laughed. “Come now, don’t be so down about it! If you find yourself in trouble, it’s nothing to worry about. I can always save you without using any of the tricks up my supernatural sleeve!”

He was a true friend to me. Though it was through his actions that I was spared from poverty and disgrace, I usually didn’t think of him as the demon I had sold my soul to. Instead, he was Raffles, my kind and clever valet.

The hansom halted, and Raffles—at some times my friend, and other times my valet—decided to play the very well-mannered part of the latter as he helped me out of my seat and back into the dark of the night.

Unfortunately for me, the pierce of an indignant hunter’s bullet hissed through the centre of my back as soon as I stepped out of the hansom. The last thing I saw was my friend Raffles, staring back at me with horror and dismay.

–

I was aware of a thick smoky smell before I was aware of anything else. There was a comfortable heat, also, which went well with the silkiness of high-quality bedsheets under me.

Pulling myself up, I stared in morbid fascination at the unfamiliar room. There were velvet curtains, and a sheer canopy over me. There was no great light, only several small candles. The atmosphere was idealised and inviting, as it might be at the twilight of the night. The curtains were drawn, obscuring the windows and anything that might lie beyond them.

I looked down at myself. I was wearing a new dressing gown, tied about the front. I had undergarments on beneath that as well, thank goodness. 

One didn’t need to be bright to know that this exquisite bedroom was not what it appeared to me. 

I had died. I was in hell. At least one of the hunters must have been wise to us, and had followed, and had fired at us. Perhaps the hunter had only meant to frighten us into surrender. Whatever the case was, it mattered little now. There was no one who could help me. My contract was up, and my life was forfeit. 

And terror slowly seized me, as I remembered that the whole awful business would be done by the fellow whom I considered to be my best friend!

“Come, don’t mope like that, Bunny.”

The fiendish, entrancing vibrato underlying those words shook me to my core. I spun around frightfully, and caught sight of Raffles, who was busying himself with opening the lid on a gramophone in the corner of the room. He had been there the entire time, I was sure, but in my panic I hadn’t seen him. Or maybe I hadn’t wanted to see him.

Raffles was dressed to the nines as always. His bowler hat, his gloves, his tailcoat, his curly hair—everything about him was as perfect as ever.

“Raffles?” My voice was hearse. I knew what I was in for. It was a cold comfort that my longtime friend would be with me in my final moments.

The black curves of a record shone in Raffles’ hand. He placed it on the turntable, and then he turned on the crank on side of the machine. “It’s time,” he said. He released the turntable’s break, and lowered the soundbox onto the rotating record. 

A soft, muddled music filled the room. It reminded me of the soothing atmosphere of a London club. Immediately, the soft ambiance flooded through my high-strung nerves, and I started to come back to myself. I breathed again. Naturally, I had sense enough to know that music would not save me, but the music was a very welcome salve all the same.

I daresay I didn’t have the courage to thank Raffles for it.

My heart went hammering in my chest when Raffles at last approached me. He appeared to pay no attention to the disparity in our states of dress. He extended a hand to me.

I only stared foolishly at it, and at him.

“There’s no need to be frightened,” Raffles said suavely and in that eerily spectral tone, smiling with the same expression of devotion that he had so often worn as my personal valet. “Would you care to join me for a dance?”

This was absurd. Even if this was meant to be some final testament to the years of our close friendship, I wanted none of it. I was so anxious that I could barely see straight. “Why don’t you get it over with?” I muttered with severe agitation.

Raffles tilted his head. “I beg your pardon?”

“Knock it off!” I shouted at him. “It’s no secret to me that I was shot and killed. I’ve always known I wasn’t getting something for nothing! What are you waiting for? I’m dead now. The contract’s up. Isn’t this what you wanted all along—what you’ve been working so hard for?”

But Raffles was determined to have his own way. “Dance with me, Bunny.”

I realised that he would not tell me anything more until I agreed to his game. I took his hand. He guided me to stand with him. Using his greater height to his advantage, he held me like he would a woman, and slowly led me around the room.

The soothing effect of the music doubled with the movements of my limbs in time with the dull rhythm. I was terribly confused and scared out of my mind, but there was something about the dance and Raffles’ familiar face that made this experience bearable. 

“That’s the spirit,” Raffles praised me. “You’re looking better already.”

“This is surely a bizarre way to eat someone’s soul!” I hissed, though I was too weak to inject any real spite into the bold words. I’m sure I only sounded panicked, though I believe that talking about my doom in such a rude way was helping me cope with my dread.

Raffles met my terror with impenetrable patience. “You were right,” he said, with an apologetic tone, “when you said that the contract is up. You have had your turn to own me, and now I own you. However, I have no wish to consume your soul. I would never do such a thing to someone who is so dear to me. No, Bunny, that is not what I want from you.”

“What do you mean?”

Raffles leaned in, and pulled me close enough to him so that we were up against one another. I could not see his face anymore, but I could tell now that the smoky scent of the room was really his own scent. He spoke, and his voice was enchantingly dark and sultry in my ear. “I will not be satisfied until I have the honour of making you cry out in ecstasy underneath me.”

I gasped for all I was worth. I couldn’t believe what I had just heard. 

What kind of demon had I really had working for me all those years?

A hot jolt ran through me, straight down my legs. I was so shaken that I couldn’t speak. My old friend Raffles, who had played the part of the ladies’ man so flawlessly, had never let me suspect an interest of another kind.

“Is that such a disturbing revelation to you? Oh, it is unbearable, how innocent and trusting you are. Your soul is so beautiful, and so pure. I long to satisfy you, and bathe you in sin. I will make it come to you as naturally as breathing.” He sighed dreamily. “You never did have relations with anyone in life, did you?”

It was plain to me by now, why Raffles had brought me to hell to a bedroom like this, wearing a dressing gown like the one draped about me now. Raffles meant to have his way with me. I could not believe the man who’d been my friend would do such a thing, but it must be the case that I never really knew him at all. He was not even a man! He was a demon, capable of worse than I knew.

“No, Bunny.” Raffles’ tone sharpened abruptly. “I know what you must be assuming; but that is not my game. Why should I wish such ugly abuse upon the lovely soul which I have come to own? What need have I for such a… shortcut, if I could even refer to such violence by so generous a name?” He scoffed at his own question. “No, that is beneath us both. You may know that I will never do anything to you that you do not allow. I will seduce you, not torment you.”

As if that was supposed to put me at ease. He was still moving me around the room, leading us along to the monotone song. His grip around my hip and around my back was tight. I was light-headed with the momentum of it. I was still in a state of fright; perhaps that was why I didn’t think to ask Raffles what plan he would have recourse to if I were to boycott his advances altogether.

“Of course I will not torment you; you are my precious treasure—my only weakness. I will tell to you a little of how I have dreamed of you. Oh, how I have dreamed of you.” He kissed below my ear affectionately, and the unabashed sweetness of it startled me, though his voice was deep and wanton. “I have longed to descend to my knees before you, and undress you with reverence—to admire the feast that I have waited for. Your soft thighs would tremble under the stroke of my fingers; your moans would sound exquisitely divine, when I at last took your warmth between my lips. You may have already noticed that I have dressed you to be comfortable, and, I confess, to leave as little between me and my prize as I might. Do you now see why? I lust to have a taste of you, and savour the sin of your pleasure.”

This obscene confession embarrassed me horribly; even worse, it took effort for me not to whimper with arousal. For all the times that Raffles had bewitched me with his looks and his charm, I’d never allowed myself to contemplate something so vulgar. Not between two men. Not between me and Raffles. It was all so tasteless that I could hardly forgive myself for listening—and yet I wanted to hear him say more.

“I know that you will be shy and anxious, the first time; but you needn’t let your naiveté discourage you. Put your faith in me to guide you. I will use the touch of my fingers along your smooth skin to relax you, if you like. That is one of my innate talents, you understand? No, you could not understand what you’ve never known. I must show you what powers I can exercise for your comfort, if you would be so kind as to allow me?”

There was an unexplained note of urgency in his voice, which ought to have arrested me. Instead, I only thought him to be acting according to his craving for something which had been his goal for so long and which was so near to him.

He stopped our dance, even as drowsy music droned on. He half-stepped back from me. I saw his eyes, and they were a bright and burning crimson. He quite cordially removed one glove. With his bared hand, he reached for my face. “If I might be so bold to only touch your face, Bunny? Might you condescend to give me a chance?”

Time stood still, while he awaited my decision. The decision really was mine to make. I told myself that this was hell; there would never be anything beyond this for me. This sort of life was to be my new existence, and I had sentenced myself to it. I would never know the propriety of the English again. In this lawless place, my former valet could offer whatever unthinkable act he wished to use me for, and if I let him, then it was neither right nor wrong. To a devil such as him, such sin was simple sustenance, or something alike enough to it. 

It was without a doubt a better fate than having one’s soul consumed, but more than that, I trusted my old friend not to hurt me. He had been considerate enough to ask for permission, too. The Raffles I knew wouldn’t make a fool of me without good cause; and didn’t I owe him at least some little token of what he hungered for? He had done so much material good for me in life, and now all he asking for in return was a small gesture which no one but us would ever know of. 

In answer to his question, I nodded, with wide and watchful eyes. 

He smiled calmly, and I didn’t regret my decision. Then, he cupped my cheek with all the tenderness of a mother.

I flinched in response to the sheer tension that was wracking me; but then, I was swiftly shocked at how good the touch of his palm felt on my skin. It was near to the feeling of soaking in the heat of the Turkish baths that I had so often enjoyed. The sensation was dizzying; it eased my tension from me. 

Raffles retracted his hand. “Forgive me, that was too much for you.” He replaced his glove on his hand. 

Yet I, shocked as I was, could tell that I was not the only one affected by the exchange. There was more colour than there had been before to Raffles’ skin. He was supposed to be a spawn of hell; his human-like reaction confused me. It made me wonder, what sort of body does a demon actually possess?

“That wasn’t so awful, was it?” He resumed his position and the placement of his hands upon me. “Come, come; dance with me.” Again, he led me. 

I was too embarrassed to meet his gaze. I kept my attention on the room and on our feet.

It was maddening, but Raffles respected my reaction. He kept our dance to a perfectly acceptable form.

He was a demon; sin was surely his ambrosia and nectar. How long had he been my valet? Five years added up together in my head. That would have been five long years of unsatisfied longing, while he met my every demand. He had me in his clutches now, and yet he was still willing to wait. My heart—the part that belonged to Raffles—rioted against my silence.

“The hand was okay,” I blurted out.

Raffles exchanged very stark gazes with me. “Explain.”

He paid his complete attention to what I had to say, even though I didn’t know what I was going to say. It was a relief to me, how he listened to me with the same congenial mood as he had when serving me as my valet. “Whatever you did with your hand on my face,” I heard myself exclaim. “It wasn’t so bad!” 

Raffles was astonished by my outburst. “Did you enjoy it?” he asked neutrally.

I jumped in my own skin. “H-How can you ask me that?” I stammered. I hadn’t meant to suggest anything like that. “What does it matter? I didn’t mind it, and that’s all you need me to say, isn’t it?”

The room around us quaked unhappily, as the most miserable mood came upon my suave dance partner. He stopped the both of us in our tracks, but still did not release me.

“Raffles?” I whispered, more frightened than ever before. 

For a terribly long moment, Raffles didn’t say anything. I watched him vacillate between lunging toward me and hastily retreating. Finally, he came to a decision; he embraced me close, and spoke intimately into my ear once more. “No, it’s not your tolerance I’ve waited for. I need your soul. That part of you that I feel compelled against all reason to protect and cherish; that part of you that was my friend; that is what I must hoard all to myself. You trusted me so readily, when I was your servant, Bunny; did I ever fail you? Well, put your trust in me once more, and I will be your loyal servant again. Give your heart to me, and I will worship you.” His grip on my shoulder and hip tightened with a fearsome strength. “Do you enjoy this? Will you give me a chance?”

I was too weak. I couldn’t refuse him. I didn’t want to. I don’t know why I said it, but I said it. “Yes.”

Raffles kissed me immediately.

It is likely that I blushed madly at this sudden display of affection from him, but all I could process with full awareness was that the feel of his lips upon mine was pure bliss. As his palm had done earlier, the press of his lips soaked me in a supernatural heat that washed through me to the ends of my toes. All the strength in my muscles was sweetly sapped away.

He kissed me—as though it were a fine art—until I was senseless. He walked me backwards, to the bed, and rolled me back onto the sheets. He climbed on top of me, eager and passionate; still, he kissed me, unable or unwilling to break away from me. He had me surrounded with his own arms and legs, but I still knew he wouldn’t hurt me.

I was a mess by the time he was done, which seemed to only enflame his desire more.

“Bunny,” Raffles murmured. “Oh, Bunny, you are so cute like this.” He slipped his gloved hand past the knot of my dressing gown, to lovingly caress my bare chest underneath my shirt.

“R-Raffles,” I whimpered anxiously. I was too afraid to admit how good even his covered hand felt when it was on me. The sensations of his warmth and weight drew sparks along my vulnerable skin. 

“My cute little Bunny,” Raffles whispered softly, while his hands owned me with a frightening jealousy. “My precious, adorable Bunny.”

It is unconscionable how weak I became when he spoke of me as his dear pet. I knew what debauchery he meant to take from me now. Thrills of need shivered through my body. I was dually excited and frightened. “I’m s-scared,” I heard myself admit aloud, just under my breath. It was an absurdly childish thing to say, but I was as a child here; I was small and powerless.

Raffles didn’t think less of me for my utterance; he took every pain to reassure me. “There’s nothing to be scared of. Only, trust in me and my powers, Bunny. I won’t disappoint you.”

Of course I trusted him. How could he not know that by now? I was frightened, but I trusted him. I nodded minutely, without daring to glance away from him and his dangerous, captivating darkness.

He gave me a kind, yet predatory smile. His other gloved hand sank down, into my thin pants, and stroked me. 

I whimpered with excitement and shame. The depravity and thirst of his desire tore through me. The touch of another man was trespassing upon my body, and though it should have been the greatest of sins, it only made me yearn for more.

Raffles kissed down my neck, to the top of my gown. “Whenever you want it, only say the word, and I will make love to you in the proper way. Nothing like this facsimile; oh, I will gratify you to your heart’s content with this, but this is only a trifling taste of how thoroughly I can satisfy you.” He nosed into the collar of my shirt with a devastating fondness. “Have you ever heard of how one man can service another with his own body, Bunny? You need not have; I will show you myself. I will prepare you with such tender care that you will feel nothing but pleasure, and then, when you are aching with need—”

“Raffles,” I choked out. It was humiliating, and awful, but I loved what he was doing to me. I clutched his warm, black-clothed sides, because I needed some anchor to hold on to.

He was evidently pleased by my frantic loss of self-restraint. He licked—licked, like an animal!—back up my skin, and then cupped my cheek. He stroked me tenfold, and heavens but he put all his wrist and his arm into it.

“Oh, God, please,” I moaned. There can be no excuse for how I gave in to temptation. Raffles was doing what he wanted with me, and I was unforgivably happy for it. “Please, yes,” I sobbed. I was consumed with longing, and powerlessness, and fear at my own vice. There were tears in my eyes.

“Of course, my little Bunny.” Raffles smiled down on me, compassionately and with a religious expression. The beatific look on his face tempted me into seeing some kind of love within the hungry lust of his red-hot eyes. “When you need me, I will be there for you. That has never stopped being true.” He kissed me on my temple. “I won’t abandon you now. Enjoy this; enjoy my gift to you.” His breathing grew louder. “When that time which I have waited for finally arrives, and you need me inside of you, I will be there for you, then, too. That is when I will gently make you mine. You will weep for me, my innocent, harmless Bunny. You will shake, and arch with bliss, and I will praise you for it all. You will be so beautiful!” His passion exploded into an uncontainable appetite. “Ah, you are more moving, more thrilling, more damnable, more satisfying to me than anything like what you humans so naively call art!”

I couldn’t feel any calmness about it when he turned his attention away from my shocked blush down to my lower body. His touch on me was shatteringly warm and pleasant, so much so that I whimpered aloud when he suddenly stopped stroking me.

Raffles ripped off my shorts. It was a showy burst of power. “I will show you what art is!” he declared. Then, he bent over, parted the closure of my dressing gown with possessive throws, and took me greedily between his lips.

“R-Raffles!” I screamed. I rocked into him without any finesse, and he fed upon me in time with the droning music, moaning with unabashed satisfaction as he did so. I felt his curly hair in my palms. I cried out for him over and over, which spurred him on. I could feel how he was shuddering with the feel of me inside of him. He was the more prepared, but it was plain that he was as overwhelmed as I was.

He could have gone on forever, it seemed, but I was done for. Only a few more moments passed until I came. The splendid force of my body’s reaction to Raffles terrified me; the strength of the infatuated reaction from my mind was even worse. I collapsed from sheer exhaustion, and I lost my sight and my senses briefly, though I was always aware of how Raffles never let go of me.

As the two of us laid along on our sides on the bed, Raffles held me closely and fondly to his bosom. It was wonderful. I felt Raffles calmly glide his hand along my hip and waist, and he gave me sparse kisses to the back of the neck. It was a more familiar and confident gesture than any embrace I had known in life. 

Raffles was murmuring sweet nonsense to me. “You are so good, Bunny. You were always just the chap for me.” His hands and his words were light and gentle upon me. “Oh, my precious soul, you are so soft, and so beautiful. How comes a human as innocent as you? Sh, no, don’t mind me. Rest now. Everything will be all right. Let your fears go their own way, Bunny. There’s nothing for you to be afraid of while I serve you.”

This was the existence I was to live out, forever. I was guilty and ashamed of how I was surrendering to an ungodly, wicked fate, but what other reasonable choice was left to me? Raffles had already won this ending from me. I was his property, and I could choose to be a miserable possession or a possession who made the best of things. There was nothing I could do about it any longer, and there was no reason to resist. 

None of these justifications, which I struggled to make to defend my actions, changed the fact that it was easy to find rest in Raffles’ familiar arms. The low, hazy song of the gramophone had survived; its sweetness helped convince me to lose myself in the warmth of the demon who had chosen me.

–

I came back to life with a gasp. I rolled forward and held my own chest on instinct. There was no wound to be felt underneath the folds of my petticoat, though I felt some soreness and sleepiness. I glanced around; I was back in the old sitting room of my flat. There was no music, nor were there any enchanting aromas or golden candles. The surface beneath me was soft, but not half as soft as silk. The air was fittingly cold for the season. Everything seemed exactly as I would have expected it to be on any other day, except for the bag of jewellery that I spotted sitting abandoned and uncared for near the front door.

But there, as always, was Raffles, kneeling beside me. I realised that he had laid me across the sofa. “My lord,” he greeted me. “No doubt, you are wondering what has happened. Allow me to explain. Your injury, while grave, was not beyond the reach of my powers. We’ve made a clean getaway from our unpleasant friends, the hunters. Your heart ceased to beat for some minutes, yet I managed to revive you. I carried you to home. You are safe now.”

I couldn’t think of the right thing to say. It had not all been a dream; I wasn’t going to entertain that possibility at all. It had been real. That charming bedroom, and the fancifully intimate manner with which Raffles treated me, had felt as real as anything as I had ever known.

“Raffles!” It was all I could manage to say.

“I gave it an eighty-twenty chance against you pulling through, my lord,” Raffles murmured, “by no means a pleasant margin. As I said, your injury was grave. If your body had not rallied, I would have been gladder for not having given you false hopes.”

That notion had the air of altruism, but only the air of it. I was not convinced in the least by it. He certainly hadn’t waited a mere few minutes to see how things would turn out before doing what he wanted with my soul in hell!

Raffles rose to his feet. “If there is anything else my lord requires—”

I cried indignantly, “You lunatic!”

Raffles stared at me with surprise. 

My hands clenched into fists. I was in such a state of agitation that I hardly knew in what direction my own thoughts turned. “I can’t just forget what happened! How could I? I always assumed you were going to eat me! What we did—what you did to me—I can’t even say it! No, I won’t say it! How can things go back to the way they were, now that I know what happens next? Now that I know what you’re after…!” I despised myself for how I had fallen to his temptation so easily. I groaned bitterly. “It’s abominable… It’s unforgivable!”

This regrettable tantrum didn’t please my loyal valet. He wandered off, and in moments he was smoking a Sullivan silently across the room. 

This aloof behaviour alarmed me more than his resentment would have. My bitterness fell away, under the power of the realisation that I might have just greatly offended my demonic friend for no good cause. “Raffles?”

“I don’t expect you to forgive me or my actions, my lord. In my defence, you are young yet; it could be another seventy or eighty years until I have such a splendid opportunity as that again. I might have even tricked myself into believing that you would prefer to know that your story does not have such a tragic ending after all. Still, perhaps it was a terrible mistake, if it turns out to cost me the respect of my best friend.

“But whatever you take away from what I have shown you, don’t let it ruin your life. Your final end is still a long time away; you need not let the fear of it affect you prematurely. Even though I will have your soul in the end, you are alive again now, and I am only your contracted servant once more; and despite what I have done, your innocence is remarkably untainted. So go on living as usual, my lord, and rest assured knowing that I will keep you in comfortable affluence as I have always done.”

I couldn’t understand him. He was betraying none of the feeling that he had displayed in hell. He made it sound as if seventy or eighty years of service and abstinence was not a bother to him. I could not honestly believe that, when I had felt him so consumed by passion not so long ago. I wanted to ask him if it was painful, to have to rein in his demonic urges all the time, but I thought better of it.

Raffles paused to gather his thoughts, and I sat upright on the couch. As I registered the rough material beneath me, I realised that Raffles had taken very few liberties with my earthly body. He had not changed my clothes, nor had he placed me in the comfort of my own bedroom.

He, who was standing across the room by the mantelpiece so far from me, was as hauntingly gorgeous as ever. His tall figure, dark features, and precise manner were the same as those of the old friend I had known before today, though I took more notice than I once had. He had claimed my innocence was intact, but I was not so sure; for, as I looked upon him now, I felt a powerful fire stirring wildly in my breast, which I had not recognised until now.

“I should have known that even reverence from a devil is too wicked and frightening a thing,” Raffles said with a cynical smile. The Sullivan between his fingers crunched with the force of his unsettled nerves. “You still look so frightened, Bunny. It does nothing to mar your beauty, and yet I hate that look on you. You’ve come to fear me, and I absolutely cannot stand it. It’s unbearable!”

He was mistaken, however. I was not frightened, not anymore. Or, at least, I was not frightened of him. The person I feared was myself. My sensibilities were crumbling. I was letting myself think of my old friend in new, deplorable ways. The fate he had secured for me was certainly not a tragic one; no, the truth was that I had enjoyed it. Raffles had treated me better than any human suitor ever treated his princess, and with such limitless ardour.

I didn’t know what kind of feelings a demon is capable of, but I felt keen adoration for Raffles. I was fortunate and happy to have a chap as loyal and brilliant as him. Did I love him? And was I looking forward to an afterlife of sin of his design? I didn’t know. But I still liked him.

I cleared my throat. “Raffles.”

He put on such a strong face in front of me, but when I looked into his eyes, I saw concern, worry, and self-resentment. I found that I didn’t blame him for loving me as only a demon knew how to love. 

“No, I don’t think I’m afraid anymore,” I said, gaining confidence with each word. I beamed at Raffles merrily, which startled and baffled him. “I was wrong. Things aren’t so bad as I said. I don’t even need to fear death from now on,” I declared quite stupidly, “since I know I’ll always have you to look after me!”

My valet was floored, and I daresay a delightful feeling of satisfaction overtook me. I liked putting that beautiful, stunned expression on Raffles’ face. Steadily and surely, I was regaining the ground of the master. “I did not torment you, when you were in my power,” he deadpanned, but in a too-gravelly voice which betrayed his sincerity. “You won’t extend to me the same courtesy?”

“I don’t mean you any torment,” I said, with my tongue in my cheek. “Why should it be a torment to you, if I say such things? Is it because there is something else you need me to say?”

My poor Raffles blinked in astonishment. “You have never asked me anything like that, my lord.”

I laughed. “I never imagined I had anything worthwhile to give you!”

Raffles hummed at that. “I see. In any case, I would need nothing of any sort from you, my lord. It’s hardly a valet’s lot to need anything from his master, don’t you agree?” A familiar smirk graced his features; he was beginning to appreciate the meaning of my arrogant change in mood.

While I was definitely going to pay for my insolence later—perhaps even sometime before my death—just at that moment we silently agreed that I needed to be insolent with him. “Silly me, of course I can’t be of any use to you. I’m only good for making demands. In fact, I have a demand.” I stood onto my wobbly feet. I was determined to give him something, whether it was a good idea or not.

Raffles bowed his head patiently. “Yes, my lord?”

“I need more rest, and I won’t be getting it on this sofa. So I’m off to bed. But…” I swallowed down my doubts and my nervousness. Even though I didn’t know if this was the right thing to do or not, I believed that Raffles deserved this much honesty. “W-Will you lie on the bed by me and… hold me, for a little while, to make sure I’m all right?” My hands fidgeted, and I blushed at my own pathetically innocent proposition. “I know it’s not a normal task for valet, but, you did it before, briefly… in hell…” I crossed my arms, and pouted to the very best of my ability. “… and I liked it, all right? But nothing more than that, all right!”

Before my eyes, an almost childlike joy surged through Raffles, uplifting him to a degree that I couldn’t have expected. His sour disposition was erased as if it had never been; I could only have spoken the magic words that were the keys to his heart. This kind of elation suited him beautifully, I thought. Maybe this was the proof he had needed that I did not hate him. I had let him know that I would never hate him. He was the person who was dearest to me. “Yes, Bunny,” he said, as he slowly rubbed out the fire of his Sullivan, “for as long as you like.”


	2. Chapter 2

Thus far, I have detailed what manner of demon Raffles was, and how I came to know about it, and how awkwardly I first reacted to the revelation. I have yet to do him the justice, however, of sharing how he strove to reinstate the simpler terms of our old friendship, and how I could not allow him to succeed.

The smoke from our cigarettes filled the room. Mine were of a more delicate make than his rugged ones. It was a cold day; we sat lazily around the central fireplace as any two residents of the same shared flat would. This was not out of the ordinary. Raffles was a spectacular valet, but when there was no work to be done, Raffles often helped himself about my flat as though it were his own.

How I managed to go on living with him was a mystery to me. I should have loathed him and the unforgivable afterlife he had tricked me into. When I looked at him, though, I never saw a man whom I could hate. He was not overly muscular, but he otherwise looked the part of the upright, honest sportsman. I couldn’t help wondering about him more and more often, now that I had known what sort of creature he really was.

“Raffles,” I asked, “Do you think about it a lot?”

“Need I ask for clarification, my lord?” Raffles droned in reply. I thought he was amused by me, and the uneasy way I had been behaving ever since coming back to life. “Yes, I do.”

I was the one who felt the need to clarify. “About… what will happen, after death?”

Raffles forgave this unnecessary question with a wave of his hand. “All of that will matter not at all, for a long time,” he said. “Though, I won’t think less of you if it has a morbid fascination to you, Bunny. The consequences of life after death always consume much of the attention of humans while they still live, rather more than is useful.” He meant to leave it at that.

But I was the master of the house, and I was not content with his aloofness. It was absurd that he should be so aloof now, while he designed to be so intimate with me at a later date! I daresay that I stuttered when I spoke. “Well, w-what do you think about, exactly?”

Raffles glanced at me sideways, with as judgemental a stare as any I’d ever been honoured with.

I blushed hotly. It had been a ridiculous thing for me to say. What else could he possibly be thinking about, save desires like those of a hellish incubus which could not be spoken of in decent company? I didn’t expect an answer, yet he condescended to give me one.

“I think about making ardent love to you, Bunny,” he said. “I think of lying you along my bed, and having my taste of you for an eternity.”

After such an audacious remark, I expected a snicker or some other mark of amusement at my expense. There was none. I was too afraid to respond. 

He blew out a long, pensive sigh of smoke. “You have a curious face, my lord. It always looks so innocent, no matter what evil we’ve been up to. It’s never more so than when you blush,” his long finger lowered to point in my direction, “like that cute little expression you have on now.”

I was mortified. “Shouldn’t I blush?” I said, hopelessly.

“Ha, you’re ashamed, of course. I wonder, what could be so shameful about copulation? It’s not taboo everywhere, you know. The animals don’t mind it. I should add that most humans don’t mind it. I’ve never seen a people cling so much to the love of shame as they do here in the England of Queen Victoria. The people of other places tend to be much more open-minded.”

“Then you should have got one of their souls instead!”

This was a weak outburst, and I hadn’t planned on saying something so juvenile. But Raffles, too, had not been expecting it, and that fact alone empowered me to go on when I should have kept quiet. 

“No, i-it’s less fun without the shame, isn’t it?” I hadn’t meant to ridicule him, and yet in my agitation that was what I was doing. I kept my gaze firmly on the crackling fire, to avoid facing how Raffles was staring at me currently. All the same, I had a morbid desire to better understand his perspective. “Is that what you picked me for, then? My guiltless face?”

“No, my lord. Your soul.”

“Ha!” I gave a short, mirthless laugh, to cover for how I trembled frightfully at the sincerity in his voice and the alarmingly innocent answer he had given me. “That’s right, it’s my soul you’re after!” I drawled with ugly sarcasm. “Because it was surely my soul you were all over while we were in hell!”

“That is correct, my lord.”

I stopped, and finally turned to Raffles again. I had done it so quickly that I caught sight of a deep hunger in his eyes, right before he saw my surprise and hid his true emotions with a gentlemanly smile.

“If this topic upsets you, my lord, it may be judicious not to ask me about it,” he said. “As your friend, it piques me to make myself the cause of your distress. I am your valet, and you are my lord. That is all that wants your consideration for the time being. Why may we not simply sit here in silence, enjoying our warming drinks and these very fine cigarettes?”

But he had no idea of how restless I had become. I couldn’t simply sit there. Suddenly I found that I had to move around. I rose to stand, and paced a bit about the flat. I didn’t know what to say to Raffles, for I hardly knew what I was thinking.

One thing I had come to realise was that I wasn’t actually so surprised that Raffles could be interested in men in general. In my opinion, he certainly had the lean, well-groomed appearance of such a chap who might. Maybe I should even be flattered by his prurient interest in me, though he is by no means the kind of person I would have imagined for an admirer.

But what positively frightened me to no end was how Raffles—my valet and my intimate friend—was every minute quietly craving me with the lust of a demon. He was enduring such a very long wait for my soul, on the order of years. It bothered me excruciatingly. How could he manage his loyal servant’s act so perfectly—and how could the simple soul of any mortal be worth such a strained and prolonged performance?

“Do you enjoy this, my lord?” Raffles asked suddenly, to the fire. “Smoking cigarettes? Idling about?”

I did not grasp what he might mean with such a question. “What? Of course I do.”

“And did you enjoy my company that night, my lord?”

I froze mid-step. 

A few days ago, I learned the truth of him, and the night after that was the night when he held me in bed. Raffles had sat at my bedside, resting his hand on me. It was a miracle that I fell asleep at all, while my heart was so sorely stirred by the insufferably tender way with which his gloved hand lightly stroked my shoulder, while in my nervousness I kept my back to him. 

“Yes,” I whispered, after I had collected myself as well as could be expected of me. I never was much of a liar.

Now Raffles spoke in my direction. “Then that sort of sin is the worst that you need fear from me, when your time comes, my lord.”

My eyes widened like those of a mouse. I spun on Raffles.

He shrugged casually, as if he was not in the process of making a momentous sacrifice. In fact, he hid that sacrifice so perfectly well that I almost doubted it was a loss to him at all. “No sex. We’ll put that one off for a very long time, at least. Instead, we’ll pass the time in more agreeable ways. I might sit with you by a good fire, just like this one. You will have your lie-downs, and I will be there as I was last night. That would all be familiar enough to you, and I will still have your soul to call my own.”

I hated passionately that he would do something so horribly generous for me, with so little hesitation.

“It won’t be quite the same, though,” Raffles added. “I’m not so unselfish as to abstain from you completely. A kiss here and there; that wouldn’t scare you so much, would it?”

How dare he ask for so little from me. It was intolerable. I was his concerned friend, just as he was mine; how could I live with myself, if I were to deny him what he needed from me? A humiliating sob stuffed my throat. I sniffled, despite my efforts to keep it in. 

“Bunny?”

I wanted to pull at my own hair. It didn’t escape me that Raffles had brought me to hell so that I might not fear death, only to have his plans backfire on him like this. That pained me. He was an unholy demon from the underworld, yet still he treated me with more compassion than any other human ever had. I couldn’t bear it if he went unsatisfied forever in this fashion, worshipping me in his queer way from a tantalisingly short distance. 

“Bunny, come back here.”

I was crying now, and that embarrassed me, too. It was because I knew that Raffles deserved better than a frightened child for a soul. He was so good to me. I wished he wouldn’t be. This whole sinful afterlife business would be so much easier on my conscience, if only he wouldn’t be so damned chivalrous about it. He worked so vexingly hard to suppress the darkness inside him, constantly and for my sake alone. I couldn’t understand how someone could do something so selfless for me. Maybe he couldn’t experience love for me like a human might, but his devil’s loyalty was too similar to it.

“Bunny—”

Hurriedly, I buried my shameful tears in my hands. I meant to smother my face, so that Raffles wouldn’t hear my sob force its way out, though he must have heard something. 

In a flash, there was a profound heat hovering just over each of my arms. 

I raised my head to look, and discovered Raffles standing in front of me. He had reached for me, and stopped himself just in time. I didn’t understand why at first, until I realised that there was a slight burning sensation on my right thigh. It was our mark; the contract between me and Raffles. 

(We each had a devilish mark of our agreement, similar in appearance to a black pentagram, permanently tattooed into our skin. It was the physical embodiment of the contract. He had once told me that his was someplace on his torso. Mine was on the side of my thigh. I forgot about it easily, except when it turned violet and pulsed in warning, a warning meant for Raffles though felt by us both; it was meant to enforce our agreement. Raffles could not lay an unprofessional hand on me, without violating our contract.)

Raffles wore a brave face for me. He was so handsome in the flickering light of the fire, which drew dark shadows along the defined angles of his features. His skin was too flawless to belong to any human. The cigarette that he had been enjoying had disappeared. “Don’t cry, Bunny,” Raffles urged. “Don’t worry so! Forget all about this, won’t you? Everything will work out. We’ve always managed things together when things seemed at their worst, haven’t we?”

I was exploding inside. Not another word, I thought hard to myself, please God, no more of this. “Just now, y-you were going to touch me,” I murmured.

Raffles frowned uneasily at this. “Never mind that,” he said. To my surprise, he took a half-step back from me.

I followed his half-step. “No, p-please! Um, do what you were going to do!”

“That is what you wish, my lord?”

I wiped furiously at my eyes. I knew too well what I was going to say next. He wanted to touch me; I didn’t want to deny him; and there was no one else there to see us, in the privacy of our home. “Y-Yes,” I sputtered out, “please.”

Gingerly, Raffles grasped me by my shoulders. As he had the last night, he touched me with none of the possessiveness he had exhibited in hell. He was all-around hesitant, like a man who had never so much as dreamed of such closeness with another living being.

I tried to be strong, but I couldn’t manage it. 

He brought me slowly to his breast. He was taller than me by some inches, so my nose was neatly over his shoulder. His hold was gentle, and warmly soothing, though he carefully kept me from touching his skin. Meanwhile, the cursed pentagram at my leg remained quiet. 

A brilliant rush of joy ran through me. I couldn’t fathom why.

“You’re too good to me, Bunny,” was what I heard him softly whisper.

A foolish smile came to me. I wondered if I should tilt my head the tiniest bit to the side, to touch the bare skin of my cheek against his jawline. If I’d only had the confidence, I would have done so. I knew it was very wrong of me to do even this much with the demon who desired me, yet there was too cheerful a light inside of me for me to pull away. Somehow, I’d made things better for Raffles, and for that I was proud of myself. I tried to speak. “R-Raffles.”

“Yes, my lord?”

“You want my soul, you said?”

Raffles took this with a dismal attitude. “Bunny.”

“Hear me out, will you?” I insisted hotly, with emotion enough to catch his attention. I wasn’t about to let him go on thinking that he could sacrifice himself for me without an absurd reaction from me, and this was the only way I could manage it at present. “When I d-die,” I struggled foolishly on, “when I die, I want you to have my soul! And not just a little, but as much of it as you can take!” I hugged him more tightly, to bury my shame into his shoulder. “Be an honest-to-goodness demon and do whatever outrageous, unspeakable thing to me that demons do! Y-You won’t be hearing any protests from me, I swear it!”

I thought that Raffles didn’t believe me, but at least he was letting me talk. 

“That’s the d-deal, isn’t it? You have to be mine for a while, but then I have to be yours? That’s what we agreed on! We have a contract! It’s not bloody fair of you to change the rules of it now!” I desperately clutched the long arms of Raffles’ tailcoat. “And, I can be a very sensitive bloke, s-so I’ll be right offended if you treat me like I’m untouchable!” I shook him, as if that might convince him better than the weak content of my prattle could. “Besides, you’re a demon. That means i-indecency is a kind of sustenance to you, isn’t it? As you said, it’s not the vice we English see it as… T-To you, this is fairly run-of-the-mill stuff, isn’t? L-Like a regular meal? Well, I was never one to let down a pal who depended upon me for something so simple as that, and you’re sure as h-hell not going to ruin my streak as a good friend!”

“Indeed, I wouldn’t dream of doing you such an evil, my lord.” His even-tempered reply made it plain that he didn’t believe me still. 

For that reason, I tried harder. I didn’t know why I persisted, but it was extremely important to me that I not let him throw away the goal he had been working toward on my account. “And if it’s what you need, w-what’s so bad about it to me? It’s not really a painful sort of thing that you’re asking for, and it’s a far sight e-easier on me since it’ll be a friend and not a stranger working it, won’t it be? P-Plus, um, it’s not as if I need be concerned about getting pregnant!” God help me, I’d become a capital mess. “W-We were partners in crime already, and, well, if we’re partners in an entirely different sort of crime, that’s not much different, is it? It’ll actually be a bit like when we burgle things, because I know you’ll be helping me through it, like how you tend to help me out when I’m in the thick of it! Even if it’s a crime, at least you’ll m-make it interesting, I’ll wager! You always do!”

Something in this humiliating last remark must have been worth his notice. Raffles pushed me to arm’s length and studied me closely. 

I must have been quite a sight. Probably I was blushing as red as the cinders of the fire and trembling like a reed in the wind. I had said more than I ever meant to say. However, the humiliation of my unconditional faith in Raffles was second in my mind to my wish of making things right again for him. To that end, it had been my aim to give him whatever it was that he needed, or at least to assure him that he would have it eventually. 

“Was it… interesting… to you?” Raffles whispered.

I cringed. No, that was entirely the wrong word. My brief episode in hell hadn’t merely been interesting. For that matter, Raffles didn’t make burglary interesting, exactly. Crime had no attraction of its own to me; it was Raffles himself who was the attraction. He was charming, and exciting. He was handsome, and kind. He was in pain, of sorts, but still doing his valet’s duty of obscuring it from me. It hurt me so acutely, to know that he had satisfied my every want and yet I denied his own single want as if it was despicably evil. Oh, that was the horrifying truth: I didn’t think his queer sort of loyal affection was evil. It was a trifle obsessive to be simple affection, but in truth I was just as obsessed with him. I wasn’t sure yet, what did I think of the rest of the physical consequences of his affection…?

Raffles did not let go of my shoulders. I, similarly, still clung to his arms, more out of general shock than for any other reason. “My lord,” he began respectfully, and it occurred to me that he ought not address me with such an impressive title. I was not a human worthy of it. “You have such a kind soul,” he said, with sad eyes, “and that is why you’ve spoken so sweetly to me. If only you knew how darkly I long for your sympathetic soul, I cannot imagine you would be so forgiving.”

Yet I did know! I had been quite privy to his passion already; and I have a brilliant memory, if nothing else. Besides, my knowledge of his terrifying lust had not really changed how I felt about him. I trusted and admired him as much as I ever did when he was only my friend and valet. Of course I would always forgive him, if ever his actions wanted forgiveness. I didn’t think they wanted forgiveness. His hunger was sinful and indulgent to the extreme, but it was natural to him, and it hadn’t hurt me, exactly. For one moment, I asked myself, could it be possible that his hunger might ever agree with me…? But, no; that was such a richly shameful idea—one which my upright English sensibilities rebelled too violently against—that I couldn’t quite pursue it.

“Even so,” Raffles went on, “I’ll not be so ungrateful as to spurn the wishes of my master.” The sadness fell out from Raffles’ expression, giving way to a very convincing smile. He seemed to become his cheerful self again, and patted me in a friendly sort of way, which disrupted the heavy sentiment that had veiled our close embrace. “I’ll not say anything like that rubbish again, my lord. A deal is a deal, and we’re both men of our word, for good or ill. On the other hand, we ought to face events as they come to us, isn’t that so? It would be unwise and overly taxing for us to plan too far in advance. One can never know for certain what new happenings the future will bring.” He spoke too quickly for me to think of interrupting. “May I return you to the fire for now, my lord?”

I most strenuously didn’t want that to be the unceremonious end of this discussion. I opened my mouth to protest. However, no words came to me. How could I say anything? I had no cause for argument; he had agreed not to spare me. I hated that he was making himself into the selfless valet again, but I didn’t know what I could do about it. The part of me that feared losing my soul to his sinfulness was at war with the part of me that whose happiness was Raffles’s own. To answer his question, I weakly nodded.

Raffles spun me about and marched me back to the settee. “Here we are, my lord.” He helped me to sit down, with all the regality of a proper valet. I might have felt the waves of the warm, calm fire in front of us, though I did not look at it. Instead of returning to his own place, Raffles remained standing by me, still with a single gloved hand on my shoulder, seeming concerned.

I knew why he had remained by me; it must have been obvious that I was terrified. I couldn’t face how much I cared about Raffles, and yet how painfully I cared! I was so sickeningly relieved that he would have his hard-earned reward after all—that he would violate my soul for eternity! I knew that my kind demon would be so satisfied and happy at long last, to have my naive soul all to himself like that. If I was never able to look at myself in a mirror again because of it, well, maybe that ought to be worth it. Or maybe I was completely wrong, and everything I was feeling for dear Raffles was wrong. “R-Raffles,” I hesitated to say. “A-Am I a bad person?”

If only I’d had a kodak to capture the acute blast of concern and sympathy on Raffles’ lovely face. “Never, my lord! Why makes you say such an untrue thing?” He held out his palm. “No, not another word from you! It must be that you have had too much to think about for one day.” It wasn’t at all usual for my valet to speak in such forceful terms. I was taken aback by it. “You sit and relax, Bunny. I know precisely what you’re in need of.” 

Before I could guess what he meant, he offered me a cigarette between two of his sly fingers. Yes, that was exactly what I needed right now. I tentatively accepted the gift. He lit it for me, and uneasily I smoked it in front of him. It worked to ease me, somewhat. When my nerves were settled enough, I said quietly, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, my lord,” he answered, smiling handsomely right before he lit himself a cig. It was such a delightfully honest smile, which did more to restore me than did the cigarette. I was grateful that I could put such an expression on his face.

But he’d already given up on me being anything but his employer and colleague, as long as I was alive. He was determined that I forget about his demon side for the remainder of my mortal years and instead content myself with sharing a stable moment of friendship with him, as we had in the old times between us.

If only I’d had strength and confidence, then. Or maybe it’s good that I didn’t? Because, absurdly, I was tempted to reassure him that there wasn’t any particular reason that my mortal years needed to be too numerous. 

–

Raffles often played amateur cricket, under a name other than his own. I couldn’t figure out why he bothered to do so. Outside of the field, Raffles had no affection for the sport. I never requested him to concern himself with it, either. There were occasionally long periods during which he took no interest in the game. Yet some team or another would come round looking for him, and sooner or later he would be back on the field, exerting himself like any athletic mortal in one of the most wholesome of pastimes.

Though I myself couldn’t play cricket for nuts, I was fond of watching any match that Raffles was a participant of. Each game in which he played absorbed his attention entirely. The sport gave him an ideal stage on which to openly flex all of his hidden dexterity and strength. His muscles worked expertly when he bowled his famous slow balls, or when he stretched his limbs to catch a flier on the field. As easy as it would be to attribute all of his skill and fitness to his identity as a demon, I suspected that his accomplishments were as much a product of his own honest effort as of his heritage.

Usually, Raffles would treat me to a celebratory meal afterwards. It wasn’t that the meal celebrated his good play; it hardly seemed to matter to the occasion whether he’d scored well over a century, or significantly less. So we must have been celebrating something that had nothing to do with cricket. I guessed that he was really celebrating the great trick that he played everyday on all but one member of humanity—the one sheep who knew of the wolf living easily amongst the flock. 

Today was no exception to the ritual of the celebratory meal. He took me to a very familiar haunt—it was a fine but otherwise unremarkable restaurant not far from the stadium. It was a fault of both me and my charismatic valet that we preferred the finer things in life; for this reason, Raffles somehow managed to reserve the establishment’s party room for our own private dinner. And to think, this was precisely the sort of vacuous excess that I had traded my afterlife for!

It had been several days since that conversation when I’d realised—with understandable confusion and horror—that the prospect of an eternity with hell in Raffles did not repel me as it should have. Raffles, of course, didn’t know that I was still struggling over my sympathy for him. He was trying to let the whole affair pass away, and return things to the way they were. There was no more mention from him about hell or death. He effected to be my debonair valet once more. Naturally he put on a very good show, but I couldn’t have been mistaken that his high spirits were fewer and farther between than normal. 

We hadn’t committed any crimes since my return to the righteous world of the living. It wasn’t rare for us to go some days or even weeks without breaking the law, but I got the feeling that Raffles was trying to give me time to come to terms with what I had learned about him.

Well, I had come to terms with it. I didn’t hate him, or fear him. In fact, I cared for him more than I had ever cared for anyone else. How could I ever be happy with myself again, after what I’d done to him? Instead of eating me, as I had expected (and as Raffles was fully entitled to do), my partner in crime had not only showered me with affection (in the only way demons knew how to, I told myself) but had also promised to treasure me for the rest of eternity (and no wedding vow had ever been spoken with more sincerity and dedication). Then, he had chosen to revive me (I was sure it had been a choice) and to therefore remain my patient and unsatisfied valet for a long time to come (all while believing that his master feared him as an unholy brute). 

In return for this extensive generosity, I had cried like a despairing baby in front of him. How terribly immature could one man be?

No, his sacrifices wouldn’t be wasted on me. I wasn’t quite ready to confront all of the consequences of his more obscene desires, but I could try a little harder to give him something. A small step to start.

I stubbornly swallowed my doubts and asked, midway through our meal, “Excuse me. Can you tell me, what is it that happens, exactly, in the practical sense, w-when my skin comes in contact with yours?”

At first, Raffles was more than a little piqued at the interruption. He had been in the middle of his own one-man presentation on the more interesting points of his earlier game, only to realise now that I had been lost in my own thoughts. I regretted my carelessness, and again chided myself for not treating my friend as well as I ought. As soon as he pondered my words, however, he took on an entirely more surprised aspect. 

I rushed to nervously explain myself. “It’s to do with being a demon, isn’t it? You touched my cheek, a-and…!” I trailed off in embarrassment. It was my moralistic upbringing rallying once more, preventing me from saying words that I wanted to say.

“Yes, I understand you, my lord.” Raffles answered me warily. I knew too well that this wasn’t a subject he wanted me to be dwelling on. He sighed. “You are right, it is very much to do with my being a demon. It is simple; my kind simply does not separate the physical from the supernatural as well as humankind does.”

This didn’t explain much to me. So, I tried again. “I… don’t understand. Sorry, I don’t like to be a bother about it, but…” I swallowed. The ridiculous part of this was that I had picked this topic to start with because it had seemed relatively benign. “W-When you touched my cheek… what was happening?”

It was benign enough to Raffles. “You may have guessed it, my lord. When a demon touches a living being directly, he caresses skin and soul together. For my kind, it can’t be helped. We’re as spiritual as we are physical. But rest assured, Bunny, I always wear gloves,” his exaggerated his fingers by strumming his fork, “to avoid any accident.”

A frighteningly powerful emotion welled up fiercely inside me. How could he think I was afraid of him! I had never passionately hated his gloves before, but I did then. I glared at the horrible white things that Raffles insisted upon wearing for the sake of my ungrateful protection. “Well, w-what’s so bad about it, touching skin and soul like that?” I dared to say. It wasn’t enough. “It, um, it wasn’t bad before. In hell, that is. It was, um… n-nice!”

There was fresh, restrained excitement in Raffles’ eyes. He forgot his food. “Is … that so, my lord?” he asked, very carefully. 

Just like that, the weight of the world was upon me. “Y-Yeah, though, it gave me a good shock, a-at the time! It was such a curious thing!” 

“Yes,” Raffles said reasonably, “it must have been a novelty to you.”

A brutal storm swept through my veins. For Raffles to believe that I thought so little of him and his affections! “No, it wasn’t a bloody novelty!” I cried, indignantly. “In fact, it was bleeding fantastic! It felt wonderfully good!”

Raffles reeled back, stunned.

Horrified at my own boldness, I held my breath.

I’m not often able to catch Raffles off guard. Rarely do circumstances grant me such an unfair advantage. Today, however, I had amazed him. He sat back his chair and stared at me as if I’d suddenly grown wings. “Bunny—?”

The contract on my leg began to pulse with disapproval; Raffles stopped short. It must have been the force of the contract that kept him from going on. I looked up at Raffles, in time to see that fresh enthusiasm go out of his eyes. 

Still, he seemed a little pleased. “I am gratified that you enjoyed it,” was all that he said. 

“W-Wait, you can tell me what you were going to say just now!” I said this to release him of the contract’s constraints.

The contract did not cease its burn, much to my confusion, yet Raffles patiently answered me nonetheless. “Our bond does not tend to limit what I say, my lord, but rather what I might do. I… had an impulse, that is all.”

“You, um, wanted to touch me again, is that it?” I jumped eagerly at the possibility. It was what I’d been hoping for. “Well, why not? Y-You’re fond of my soul for whatever reason, and I, um, I definitely didn’t mind it!”

He kept on trying to protect me. “Are you certain of what you’re suggesting, my lord?” He leaned forward once more, in a gentle manner better befitting a concerned father warning his son of the dangers of his reckless decisions. “You must see that this is not necessary.”

“I… I know that!”

He narrowed his clever eyes upon me, examining me until I was all but averting my eyes out of sheer anxiety. “I implore you, do not make such an offer out of pity for me, my lord,” he said. “You must realise by now that I will have my due in the end regardless, while you still have your whole life ahead of you—”

“Yes, I know all of that already, Raffles!” I interrupted him, with a passionate warmth that was made greater by the contrast of his guarded coolness. Why must he be that way? Whatever it took, I wouldn’t stop trying until he could freely be his passionate self in my company. “But! I-I’ll have you know that I liked it! And, it really was good for you, w-wasn’t it? So, I see nothing against doing it again now… Go on! Here’s my hand, if you like!” With a mad blush, I shoved the thing over the side of the table.

At first, Raffles was surprised by my audacious gesture. “Bunny…?” Then, he began to register amusement. “In a public restaurant, my lord?”

I stuttered. Certainly, in a restaurant! What kind of question was that? It wasn’t as if I were suggesting anything extreme by it, not to mention we had our own private room in the establishment. “Why? W-Would that be that wrong?”

“Ah, perhaps, perhaps not.” Raffles shrugged, letting me off easily. “I’m hardly the fellow to judge what’s right and what’s wrong. Never mind me, my lord. If this is what you wish…” He held up one hand; as was typically the case, it was shrouded in a white kid-leather glove. Those gloves were the only articles of his that did not match with the rest of his cricketer’s outfit, and thus were the only possible hint that Raffles was my personal servant in disguise. He stared hard at his hand for a few long moments, deep in thought over his next action.

Then, I watched with wonder, as he slowly removed the glove from his fine fingertips.

“You and I are more different than you know, Bunny,” he said, as the article came off and onto the table. “My kind do not have souls. You have a being within you that shines like the sunlight from the surface of the ocean; alas, there is nothing so beautiful or powerful as it hidden inside me. If one of my kind wishes to gain a soul, then they must take it from a mortal. If one consumes a soul, then one will gain its power. If, however, one merely touches a soul, one very briefly becomes part of that soul. One would taste it, without taking it—indulge in its splendid beauty, without bringing harm to such a gentle light.” His bare hand came to hover mere inches over mine. The contract did not argue against him this time.

I could hardly breathe. Raffles was about to take what he wanted from me, and I was thrilled. He hesitated, though, which exasperated me. “By Jove, Raffles, what are you waiting for?” My guilt over his unending generosity had grown too strong. I blurted out, “I thought you were supposed to be a wicked demon! So why are you so awfully considerate to me all the time, damn it!”

“Am I?” Raffles laughed with a lightness that bewitched me. “I ought to ask you the same question, my lord!” 

Though that sweetly familiar laugh eased my anxiety, he had confused me. From my perspective, I had been everything to him but considerate. “W-What?”

“Ah, you don’t see it? For ages, I have only known what it’s like to be an evil, hated creature,” he said, with a mix of pride and loneliness. “I can play that part well. But, just this moment, thanks to you, for the first time…” He looked down at our hands, which were so near but still apart. “I suppose I don’t feel so hated,” he said, as if to himself. 

My heart hammered against my chest. Some agonising emotion that I couldn’t quite name overcame me. “R-Raffles…”

Gently, Raffles rested his fingers on my own.

The tense resistance of my limbs ebbed away under the soft flood of heat that washed through me. The feeling was not as intense as it had been on the occasions when he had laid a hand on me in the underworld; it was more measured, more controlled, but still blissfully relaxing and disarming. This time, I let myself give in to it. I knew that I must have looked silly, but I didn’t bother to make myself look any better, not when I knew that it was my deserving valet who was doing this to me. My clumsy fingers curled against his nimble ones.

Raffles was as out of breath as I was. I must have been dreaming, or else he was more genuinely transfixed by the sight of me than he’d ever been by even the most expensive rings and necklaces. “Oh, you are so beautiful, Bunny.” He totally covered my hand with his own. 

The rush of warmth that assaulted me was dizzying and sweet. I had to close my eyes briefly, to focus on keeping my balance in my seat. Even so, it was a peaceful sensation. There couldn’t be anything shameful about this at all. It felt positively soothing, like one enormous, benevolent hug which assured me of constant devotion. It couldn’t be a lie. I had nothing to fear; there was no one here except for Raffles and me, and my trust in Raffles was above question. Once I’d mastered myself enough not to faint from the comforting waves, I made an effort to bring my awareness back to the table, and to Raffles.

His entire face was dazzlingly bright with cheerfulness. I couldn’t believe how improved his spirits were. Beneath his delight, too, there was that dangerous fire burning inside of him; it was his villainous devil’s lust, and he wasn’t hiding it from me. He grasped my hand tightly. “My dear, sweet little Bunny,” he murmured in a criminally low voice, “I cannot thank you enough.”

“Raffles,” I whispered back, though we were absolutely alone, “this… f-feels good…” I bowed my head instinctively in shame, for having spoken such an outrageous confession out loud. Raffles had every right to know exactly the cherished effect he had on me; it was my own useless, weighty guilt that made me falter to admit it. “I-Is it all right for me to say that?”

Every inelegant word I said, Raffles accepted like a blessing. “My lord, of course it is all right! Don’t fear that you’ve done any evil. You could never do any evil. I would never trick you into doing evil, either; no, the innocence of your soul, I will guard it. Nay, I will cultivate it!” Raffles brought my hand near to himself, so that he could kiss my knuckles. Electric sparks ran along the tingling skin where he kissed me. “Ah, your immaculate soul.” His voice was thick with rapture, and I blushed madly. “You are sublime, my cute, precious Bunny…” He kissed up my palm, then up wrist, moaning in rather a hushed way with every gain.

I shuddered under his touches. I didn’t know how far he meant to go with them. Despite the pleasure I felt from his lips and his praise—and the terribly fascinating ecstasy of his moans—I was too frightened and jittery in my present state. As much as it hurt me to stop him, I wasn’t yet ready for what I knew he longed for most of all. “I’m s-sorry, Raffles, p-please… I need time—”

“Of course, of course.” Immediately Raffles reined in his ardour. He went no further than my wrist. 

My heart clenched painfully. If a voracious demon like Raffles could be a perfect gentleman, surely a plain human like myself could be a shameless sinner. Such acts of hedonism were still beyond me, though. How could I be a jolly concubine to Raffles, when the word ‘concubine’ alone frightened me out of my wits? How could I betray all of the principles of decency and moderation that I believed had made me into a proper, semi-respectable human being? And where, too, would my innocence be, if I threw myself into sin for all I was worth? The feelings that Raffles inspired in me were not all of that colour, but my innocence was one aspect that Raffles cherished about me. 

Worst of all, I doubted severely that I could treat Raffles as any human lover deserved to be treated. How horrendous it would be for my dear Raffles, to have the person he wanted constantly stuttering and shrinking in fear from him while he only went to every length to express his adoration for an endless time. It was too hard for me to even imagine such an outcome, for all the shame, and sympathy for my gentle demon, that consumed me. 

I tried awkwardly to give him as good a reassurance as I could, to make up for my timidity. “M-Maybe, some time in the future—?”

“Bunny, you must know by now that I would gladly spend eons waiting for you.” Raffles gave me one last lingering kiss to my fingertips, before leaving my hand once more on the table. He let go. 

At once, his beautiful haze was gone from me. I missed him already, though I marvelled at the pleasant tingles at that remained. I stared at my own palm in amazement. 

He replaced his glove with exquisite grace. All of the passion he had displayed had disappeared perfectly. He was again my proper valet. “Thank you, my lord,” he said softly.

I still shook in my seat. Though I was very dazed, there was something about those deep moans he had made that I couldn’t shake. I had done nothing to contribute to his enjoyment—less than nothing, it seemed to me—yet he had moaned with such unashamed gratification. He must have enjoyed this small exchange, more than I expected him to. A few of his cravings must have been sated, if only for a short while; for that, I was not only astonished but also intensely proud of myself. “That was g-good for you?” I asked him impulsively, searching him for any signs of his approval or lack thereof.

Raffles gave me the greatly disbelieving expression that my unnecessary comment had rightly earned. “Do you genuinely wonder that, my lord?” he asked with a high brow. “I suppose I should allow that it is kind of you to think after me! Very well. If I must answer, then my answer is yes, my lord. You were… very good, for me.” He exhaled, and adopted a more serious manner. “In fact, I am very safe in proclaiming that no other demon has ever had such good fortune as that which you have just given me,” he said slowly, while he looked into me with two very darkened eyes. 

I outright gasped. “R-Really? You liked it that much?” I exclaimed, without giving myself even a second to mull over my words or attitude. It was incredible how desperately I needed for that to be true.

“Quite so… quite so.” Raffles paused thoughtfully, and then shook his head at himself with a wry smile. “You surprise me at every turn, Bunny. I am supposed to be the selfless valet in our little understanding, yet you make my own sordid wishes into yours. You see, I had deeply regretted showing you the afterlife I had planned for us; I was convinced that it had upset you irrevocably; but look now! After all that you’ve learned of me, you deign to have me touch your hand—on the pretext of it giving you pleasure,” he leaned forward with a brilliant grin, “when it was really for the sake of giving me another chance to give you pleasure!”

There was nothing I could say to this. Zero. Nil. Not a single thing. He’d seen through my act of sympathy, as only an expert could see through the manipulations of a too-eager upstart.

“Ah, so I am right, then.” Demurely, he fell back in his seat again. “Well, my lord, don’t look so glum. You’ve shown me the light, as it were. Yes, you’ve cleverly convinced me. I can’t be as beastly for you as I feared I was, if I can be useful to you in this way. Oh, I won’t embarrass you by going on anymore about it, except to make one small request of you, my dear, adorable Bunny. I very sincerely ask that you never, out of pity or any other sentiment, allow me to become your tormentor. I will not survive, if you ever come to hate me.”

I bit my lip apprehensively, though while not knowing for what I was apprehensive. In hindsight, it is plain that he hadn’t seen through me; not entirely, at any rate. He hadn’t seen that hidden truth that I, too, wasn’t yet able to forgive about myself: that I loved him.

“Come, then,” Raffles spread his hands theatrically, after some little silence, “we still have a very excellent commemorative meal to finish, before it cools entirely.”

A couple of seconds of bewilderment passed, and then I laughed at my own heedlessness. My meal remained half-eaten in front of me, but somehow I was having such an engaging time with Raffles that I’d briefly forgotten all about it. That sort of thing always happened to me whenever I made myself his man—his willing partner in the most scandalous of crimes!

“Okay, um, tell me again, about your game!” I said. “I’m afraid I, um, missed some of what you said, the first time!”


	3. Chapter 3

It was some time later that Raffles and I finally went back to thieving. It was a strange sign of our return to a normal routine. Raffles had been talking about this one particular target for some time, but it wasn’t until the day of that he announced his evil intentions upon the manor of a well-to-do gentleman. When he did not assume that I would accompany him, I asked if he might make me his partner in burglary once more.

“Are you sure, my lord?” he had asked, with more caution than he ever had before. 

“Positively! I’m your man!” I had replied, with as much vigour as I ever had.

Soon enough I noticed that Raffles was more manifestly protective of me than he had been in the past. He must have felt guilt about my near-death experience not long ago, for he never was very far from my side, and always looked twice before allowing me to follow him. Any protest I gave him about this guilt of his was either politely deflated or ignored.

This adventure was to be one bathed in darkness. We had taken our bicycles at an early hour of the night in order to ride to the house that Raffles had chosen. I had never seen the house before, though I must have travelled down its street more than once. Raffles had said that he intended to purloin the pearls of the wife of yet another man of higher society than I had been born into, though I daresay none of the particulars held my attention. 

What I did pay attention to—and, consequently, what I would remember well—was Raffles. He explained as much to me as he typically it did, which is to say he told the bare minimum of what I needed to know. Though, he did give me to understand that we shouldn’t be expecting much resistance. If we pulled this off, then it would be a feat of timing, not of sneaking or of deception.

Indeed, the house was quite empty when we arrived. A single light was on in the ground floor, but it did not fool us. Raffles led me round the back of the building in our soft-soled shoes. It was all quite easy. The only real obstacle was a fence without footholds; I had to step onto his shoulders and be pushed up, while he was able to run up and over it as if it were nothing. The door that we used to enter the building was not locked.

Raffles was digging into a locked drawer in the study when we heard a commotion of people outside. Lights shined into the house from the road. Raffles whistled. “The party’s back already! That’s an inconvenience, but I thought it might happen. They won’t be here long; they have an outing booked at some theatre later. Come!”

I assumed he meant to hide in one of the upper rooms. When I started up the stairs, he pulled me back. “Very possibly that would work, Bunny, but that would be a deuce of a spot to make a run from if one of the ladies finds us when she fancies to change her dress. Let’s not take the chance. How about a spot that will never cross the minds of the party?” He opened the stairway closet, and from inside there opened the door to the basement. He lit a match, and I used its light to descend before him. Then he closed the door, came down himself, and waved out the match. The only light that came in was sparse, through a tiny window at the top of the cellar. It was light enough to inform that the party was still there, but not enough to illuminate us. No light came in through the hatch door that led to the outside.

So, we were trapped in the cellar, which was mostly lightless. It didn’t seem very long at the time; later, I would be surprised to learn that we were in there for an hour and a quarter. 

Raffles and I sat at the bottom of the stairs, side by side. He was the one who sat first; I followed his example. He was to the right of me, and neither of us objected to the fact that we were close enough for our knees to be touching.

“This isn’t the most exciting of trials, I admit,” he said, despite the sporting energy that continued to radiate off of him. “The odds were rather against this.”

I was beginning to develop the bias that his way of calculating odds was not altogether reliable. “It’s all right by me,” I replied. Even if we lighted another match, it was too dark to have any fun at a round of cards. Instead, I took off my gloves, and fiddled with them for a moment, before my excitement got the best of me. “Can we hold hands, maybe?” I asked, making sure not to be too loud. “While we’re stuck here, anyway? To pass the time?”

“To pass the time!” Raffles laughed, and I blushed accordingly. Nonetheless, Raffles speedily obliged me. However, my uncovered hand was not especially glad to be then graced by the contact of fine leather, as opposed to the bare skin that I had secretly wanted.

To be honest, I quite liked the feeling of the muscles of his hand grasping around my own, with or without the rush that came from the feel of his skin on my own. Still, I must have accidentally groaned a little in disappointment, for Raffles noticed my displeasure.

“What is the matter, my lord?”

“Oh, sorry,” I laughed awkwardly, “it’s nothing.”

“Nonsense. It’s plain you’re not too fond of my gloves.”

“W-Well, it’s that I know you can’t be too fond of them!”

“Is that right? How come you to know that, my lord?”

I was astonished that he might not agree with me. “But isn’t that the case? Clothes get in the way of my… my soul, you call it. Don’t they?” 

“Indeed they do,” Raffles replied brightly. “I can’t feel your soul. We’re holding hands in the human way. It’s not so disagreeable as I might have supposed. In truth, I’m rather enjoying it so far.”

Despite the odd feeling inspired by the contradictory innocence of daintily holding another man’s hand, I smiled quietly. I was fairly certain that I liked it, too. Why not make the best of things? I insisted to myself. “Hey, Raffles.”

“Yes, my lord?”

“There’s something I still don’t understand. I don’t quite know where to start…” I steadied myself with a deep breath. “The thing is, I hadn’t known you for more than a few hours when we made our contract. Even then, it was only over a simple spout of gambling with those other chaps, and I barely said five words to you. What I don’t understand is,” I chose my words carefully, “how could you so speedily decide to give up all the years of my life, at least, for the soul of a stranger?”

“There is much about my kind that you do not yet know, my lord. For example, I can see souls just as well as I can feel them. I could see straight away that yours was unlike any other. You have a sweet gentleness in your soul, which appealed very strongly to me. Fortunately for me, you came to me later to profess that your cheque would be bounced. No demon with services to offer has ever had a more delightful opportunity present itself.” 

“A-Ah.” Flattery from Raffles was a perpetual weakness of mine. “Um, thank you…?” I swallowed. “You were nice to me over cards, so I thought you might let my debt slide, if I asked you to.”

“I was dashed handsome, also.”

I giggled. “W-What?”

“You came round to me again,” Raffles declared, “because I was the most handsome and charming creature you’d ever laid eyes on. Do you dare deny it, my lord?”

Though the blackness of the cellar would have concealed the shameful blush on my face, I palmed my face with my free hand anyway. He wasn’t terribly wrong.

“Oh, my poor, innocent Bunny!” So he said, but his voice was full of a satisfied glee. “So easily led astray by an irresistible villain…” Abruptly, the tone of his voice became milder. “It’s ironic, my lord, that a soul as good as yours should end up in hell.”

I could hardly imagine how I could have remained innocent or good, after every crime we’d been through together, but I did not voice this concern. “That, um… l-leads me to another question,” I managed. “I’ve died once already now, and the contract was up, but then you revived me. Wouldn’t that have been a right good opportunity, too? To leave me dead?”

“Indeed not!” Raffles scoffed with mock outrage. “I am not one to fail my master when it is in my power to save him. I am a spectacular valet, without fault!” 

“Yes, you are a spectacular valet,” I agreed.

His covered thumb fondly stroked over the back of my hand. Raffles let a few seconds pass us by before going on. “I don’t regret bringing you back, Bunny. I am your servant, and I can have a brute of an ego in that occupation as much as I do in everything else I try my luck at.”

There was a sufficient amount of courage in me, for me to attempt an alternative explanation. It was a theory that tugged at me, begging to be aired. I went for it. “Well, I’m not so sure it was only because of you being my valet, Raffles. I think you very deliberately wanted me to live a little longer.” 

Raffles huffed. “Oh? And why would I wish that, my lord?”

“So that you could go on courting me!” I blurted out. “That’s what you’ve really been doing these past five years. All this fine living, the dramatic burglaries—and the shows you make of cricket, too, I’ll wager! It all constitutes your way of slowly winning me over!”

Even if Raffles didn’t agree, he was amused by the suggestion. “Dear me, and here I was mistaken that it was my responsibility to secure for you a long and happy life.”

That altruistic remark embarrassed me. “Sorry… You’re right.” I nodded a handful of times. “You’re absolutely right…”

“No, do not be sorry, my lord. Who knows? We may both be right.” He nudged me lightly with his elbow, to which I returned a nudge of my own.

There was a companionable silence between us. The footsteps and voices and general clamour of the party above us were not especially loud. The ladies and gentlemen who were presumably enjoying themselves in the house and in the gardens around the house only emitted a sort of background hum, which was soothing instead of irritating. Our hands still held one another’s.

He had said moments ago that he was enjoying holding my hand. I liked it, too. I especially appreciated that this simple form of contact could have an appeal to him. It was as if we were a law-abiding husband and wife, using the heat of our hands and knees to remind each other of our constant loyalty to one another. This thought filled me with a golden kind of contentment that, I was sure, could have nothing to do with sin.

I stopped listening to the commotion above us and heard instead the sound of our breathing. His was steady, and mine was not. I reflected that he was someone who never lost his nerves, while I habitually lost my own at the first sign of the unexpected. I doubted if those aspects of our characters had anything to do with my being a human and his being a demon. I was sure that if I’d been born a demon, and he were the human, still I would be the skittish one, and he would be the one calmly containing his own emotions and making everything all right.

I wanted to let myself go just a bit more. I could tilt my head just so to the side, and rest against his warm, strong shoulder. It was very likely that he would enjoy it also. Then he would hold me closer, and circle an arm around me—or maybe he would think that I was teasing him unkindly, and then the contract would prevent him from taking any liberties with my person. Naturally, I had the power to override that mark upon us; I could give him permission to hold me—and he would sadly humour me and ask for nothing more, like the frustratingly forbearing bastard he is!

“Bunny, old chap.”

With a start, I came back to the present. “Y-Yes, Raffles?”

“I’m winning you over with my cricket, am I?”

I should have known that would come back to bite me. It had been my own mistake to say such a thing. “W-Well!” I sputtered foolishly. I made an effort to save my face. “Y-You’re certainly trying to, I don’t doubt.”

It didn’t work. “And certainly succeeding,” Raffles said smartly, “or do you disagree?”

I groaned, to try to salvage what little pretence of decency I could keep a hold of. I couldn’t argue against his claim. Quite the contrary; images of my valet wearing cricket whites and running across the field suggested themselves enthusiastically to me. 

I recalled those occasions when Raffles would cast his sights on me alone from amongst the crowd of spectators, and wave me a jolly hullo. My heart had fluttered like a butterfly at those times.

It wasn’t kind of me to hide that from Raffles, I told myself. It hardly mattered what I told myself, though, for I did not have self-restraint in abundance at this moment, when Raffles was so close to me and the air around us was such a private one. I said, “Yes, I confess that you make a very fine cricketer.”

“Ha, you tricky rabbit!” Raffles replied directly, in a warm spirit that I was not expecting. “That’s not the character of confession I’m after!”

Not understanding him, I hesitated. “Um, what’s wrong with I said?”

Raffles didn’t answer me at first. He hummed insistently to himself. I heard his foot tapping the ground quickly in a fever of energy. 

“R-Raffles?” I was very afraid that I had upset him, though he did not release my hand.

“Pshaw!” He cried at last. “I could say that you are a fine hand-holder, Bunny, but what glorious little that gets across! It would be far better for me to say that to have my hand held by you gives me an unsettling contentment—one that stirs me to the point of distraction! So you call me a fine cricketer, when I was hoping to hear you call me a rogue of a cricketer whose deeply physical performances enchant you in ways you wished they wouldn’t!” He crossed his knees—I was fairly certain—and said nothing else. 

I was stunned by the raw feeling of his words. I was drawn in by his burst of emotion and his appreciation of me, like a guilty ship to a siren’s call. “You’re right,” I said. “I’m sorry. Terribly sorry. I take back what I said! I-I confess—!” My confused feelings for his cricket-playing lodged themselves unhelpfully in my throat, and I struggled to continue. “Um, there are always several fine cricketers on the field,” I managed. “But, um, when I sit in the stadium… W-Well, I say, I can only ever see one!”

Unfortunately for me, Raffles was still taciturn. His foot wasn’t tapping anymore. He was entirely still. He never left my side, but I couldn’t make out his mood.

“Raffles?” I whispered. “Was that silly of me? I’m sorry—”

“Sh, Bunny. You mustn’t be ashamed of such a lovely sentiment.” The grip on my hand gave a strong squeeze. To my ecstatic relief, he did not sound displeased at all. “Thank you, my lord, sincerely, though I was sure of your attitude already. You see, you quite hit the matter on its head; every game I play, I play for you, my lord.”

My blood burned. Again, I longed with a frightening passion to slacken my side and let myself fall against my man. Again, I feared to give in to the dangerous urge, but my fondness for Raffles had grown monstrous inside me. It was tearing me apart. It would be so easy to give in to him—only a few words were needed—and he was my friend, so why hadn’t I done it yet? 

If my frivolousness were an insult to him and the gravity of his loyalty to me, then I would never forgive myself; if, on the other hand, he also wanted what I wanted, I did him the ultimate disrespect by deliberately keeping it from him. Wasn’t that justification enough to tell Raffles the truth, sin or no sin? It wasn’t good of me to go on being dishonest to him, not when he dared to be so shockingly candid with me…

“Hey, Raffles, um, c-can I rest my head on you?” I flinched at my own request. It sounded horribly asinine when I said it out loud.

Raffles’ answer was to capture me in his arms, with my back against his chest. “Like this?” he had the nerve to say, even though this hardly resembled my resting my head on him.

He received no reprimand from me. I was atrociously comfortable against his shoulders, chest, and thigh. His rich scent filled me, and his strength supported me. His fine clothes were pressed unabashedly against my own. “Yeah,” I agreed. “Like this, is okay.” I thought to myself that this nearness to my dear Raffles was ten times the crime that safecracking alone was. If burglary affected Raffles as much as this particular crime affected me, then I could swiftly understand his attraction to it.

“Bunny.”

“Um, yeah?” I feared I might have erred, so I tensed anxiously, until he spoke again.

“May I have the very good privilege to kiss you on the cheek, my lord?”

I could have fallen over in my haste to give him permission, had he not been holding me. My proper instinct to rebuke his offer fought with my desire to accept it; it was not a short battle. My propriety lost. “Sure, yes?” Embarrassingly, I shook timidly as I said it.

Fortunately, Raffles was not bothered by my jitteriness. He continued to be smooth and suave. His lips pressed against the corner of my jaw. 

There it was; the feeling of him tasting some spiritual part of me that I would never myself see. I didn’t have to see it to be inordinately grateful for having it, if only so that my dear Raffles could use it to his own satisfaction in this fashion. The sensation was not as overwhelming as it normally was, yet nonetheless I became pleasantly dizzy, all throughout my body. “Raffles,” I whispered.

There was a small groan from somewhere very deep in Raffles’ throat.

I held onto his encircling arm, though I was shaking so much that I hardly could keep my fingers steady enough to do so. “The dizziness, um… it’s not so strong… this time…?” A moment later, I regretted saying something which might have easily come off as offensive.

However, Raffles didn’t take it that way. He answered me patiently. “That’s part of my nature, my lord. Allow me to explain. I feel more strongly with my palm and my mouth than my lips, or the back of my hand. It’s to do with the chasteness of it. Your soul is a little less palpable to me like this, but, ah, not by much.”

I smirked inwardly. This intimacy might have been chaste, if it had not come from such a sensuous devil as he. I shuddered as his gloved fingertips passed affectionately over my ears, and through my hair.

Raffles tickled my neck with a series of kisses, while his hands moved along my arms. He treated me better than a connoisseur would treat a priceless wine. “Ah, my beautiful little Bunny.”

I was too honoured to argue. I owned to myself that I loved how demonstratively fond he was of me—and that I didn’t like that I wasn’t returning his gestures. My body kept shaking unhelpfully against my will, and my mind kept chastising me for my unprincipled behaviour. I meant to tell him all this, but I didn’t put it in the right words. “Raffles, this is all new to me,” was the feebleness that I came up with. “I’m sorry.”

“I shan’t go any further than this, my lord,” my kind valet quickly promised.

That wasn’t at all what I meant. “But I really do like this,” I whispered, for my own convincing as well as for his. “This is all right.”

“What if someone were to see us, my lord?” he teased.

Instead of stiffening as I should have, I felt shockingly little about that. No one else would understand what one was beholding if one tried to figure us out by a glance alone. I didn’t believe that any other person could understand what kind of companionship existed between me and my valet. “Then you’re helping me get dressed,” I said. I might have even meant it. 

Raffles’ amused smirk was warm against my neck. “That subterfuge may not work as you expect it to.” Regardless, it was plain that he found something agreeable in my answer. His steady touch lingered pleasantly over the sensitive hairs of my neck. “The dilemma is academic, anyway. There is nothing to fear. I will never let another human see you.”

“See me… like this, you meant?”

“Tsk!” Raffles groused in a light humour. “If you insist.”

I snickered. 

In the darkness and hushed quiet of the cellar, Raffles held me. It was nice. I would have scooted closer to him, if there remained any room to allow for it. I gave a sigh of contentment for Raffles to hear, and closed my eyes. I found that I didn’t want the unwelcome party above our heads to leave the house too soon.

That was, until I remembered—from the way he stroked just the smallest inch into the collar of my shirt—that Raffles was silently longing for me with a depravity and an agony that no God-fearing mortal could brave to comprehend.

There was no hint of it in his cool softness of manner. But that was the trademark of his, which set him apart from other cracksmen; he was superhumanly calm and collected in everything he did. 

“Raffles,” I said. “Would you be amenable to… giving me a proper kiss?”

Raffles somehow understood my request, underneath all the layers of shyness and the humiliation it had been delivered with. “My dear Bunny. Of course. I would be delighted.”

My eyes were still closed and my body was still relaxed as Raffles turned my head and kissed me on the lips, while his strong hands secured my face. He led the act, every aspect of it, so that there was no awkwardness on account of my own ignorance and apprehension. Raffles made it lovely. It was an unhurried, celibate, and perfectly composed kiss. It was just like my demon: profoundly desirous, while faithful and self-controlled to a fault.

His spurned affection preoccupied me relentlessly. 

–

I could have tried for it the night following that one, after we’d returned from the manor with the gleam of pearls concealed in our pockets. I could have done it on any of the nights before then, too. Alas, I was too cowardly and ashamed of myself, and didn’t make a try for it.

The same was true of the next night. Something came up, and once more I put it off.

Meanwhile, he carried on being my friendly valet, and never spoke about his everlasting need for my soul.

The night after that, my devotion to him broke me. I couldn’t tolerate delaying anymore—not when it was doing wrong by Raffles. I had to end the suffering of his unrequited craving once and for all, when it was so very much in my scandalous sentiment for him to do so. I was pitifully frightened of what he was capable of, but everything thus far had been all right. I briskly smeared the darker details in my head and daftly went for it.

My plan centred in my bedroom. I have already relayed that my tastes run on the self-indulgent side, and the objects in my private room were a combined testament to this. I had a rack each for my lines of hats and shoes, a round clock for my desk as well as one on my wall, and a very large bed which would be more appropriate for a married couple than for one man. I couldn’t produce anything like the undying music of the supernatural gramophone that Raffles had made use of in hell, but I did have a normal one. I had placed it on my desk, all wound up and ready to be used. I drew the curtains closed, I lit some candles, and… what else could be done? The place was already spotless and tidied, thanks to my hardworking valet. 

Then I remembered that there was one more thing I could do. In hell, Raffles had presented himself in his finest white tie ensemble, while I had been served in a soft dressing gown. Using that memory as a strict reference, I undressed myself and donned the dressing gown that best resembled the other one. I wore nothing on my feet, or my hands, or my head. It was odd to dress oneself so minimally, but if that was how Raffles liked me, then I was glad to do it.

I glanced at my dressing gown and my kiddish features in the mirror. If there was any way I could have improved my face, I wasn’t aware of it. My skin had always been too pale, and had earned freckles for it. Nonetheless, my light-coloured hair was brushed, and I could see for myself that my nervous excitement made me radiant all over. 

With preparations as complete as they could be—and my pulse racing in advance of the venture—I was ready.

“Raffles,” I said as casually as I was able, to the empty room. “Um, when you’re not busy?”

As was normal, there was no response to me, except that my contract pulsed.

(I should have mentioned before that contract marks serve multiple functions, all of which are related the purpose of compelling the devil to keep his end of the bargain. For example, the contract will paralyse the devil before he can do anything to go against his master. The contract will also, when necessary, send his master’s request to his ears, if he is not around to hear the request for himself. Incidentally, the marks of a devil and his master are so strongly connected that one contract never pulses without its counterpart also acting up.)

Very rarely did I make such a request of my valet. Usually, Raffles predicted my wants so expertly that I hardly had to give voice to any. He would be suspicious right away, I shouldn’t wonder. I hoped he would not find the summons too irritating. 

I sat at the edge of the bed, waiting and letting my anxiety build. It wasn’t long before I was reconsidering the whole thing. What would Raffles do to me? Would he prefer to kiss me again, and hold me like before, or would he reject me outright? That’s not at all what I was preparing myself for. In all likelihood, he would strip me of my clothes and pin me to my bed. It was inexcusably shameful, how my body grew hot and eager at the thought of Raffles touching me with tenderness again. As I remembered the relaxing feel of his skin against my own, I began to ask myself, was it conceivable that he would remove his own clothes as well?

The door opened.

My mind went as blank as a fresh chalkboard. Every anticipation I was trying to foster fell apart, as soon as I saw my elegant Raffles standing at the threshold of my bedroom, with one gloved hand still on the doorknob. 

“My lord?” Raffles asked, as his dark eyes looked me over. He was silently noticing that I had changed my clothes, without the assistance of my personal valet. 

I wouldn’t let him wonder about it for long. “Wait one minute!” I dashed to my desk, and thank goodness I didn’t trip over myself along the way. A few seconds of fumbling later, and the record player was successfully primed to be played.

Raffles continued to stand at the threshold, hand on the knob. 

I stepped away from the desk, toward him. “Raffles,” I asked, while my hands wrung each other, “do you want to dance a spot with me?” 

Raffles closed the door behind him, and approached me. I extended my bare hands to him, and he took hold of them. To my surprise, he did not attempt to move us from where we stood. Instead, he fixed me with a hard, stormy look. “No, my lord.”

I was devastated. “Y-You don’t like this?” Failure had beset me more quickly, and more harshly, than I had steeled myself for. 

He shook his head. “This record will not bear dancing to, my lord. Two minutes is not a sufficient length of time.”

“Oh, yes, that’s true….” My shoulders sank. “Of course, that was a rotten idea,” I murmured, though I wasn’t entirely out to give up yet. The dancing was bust, but I still had the candles, the dressing gown, and the large bed. I did my best to cheer up and take another go. “Well, never mind the music! I-It’s not so important!”

“Then what is the meaning of this, my lord?” His voice was crisp and flat. 

“I’m trying to show you that I’m ready now!” I slowed down. I was coming to realise that he was not altogether delighted by the way I had arranged myself and the room—which puzzled me, since I had acted according to his own fancies. 

Raffles did not reply.

I knew that my man was trying to protect me, by continuing to restrain his passions without batting an eye. I hated how much his self-restraint must be trying him now. “I mean it!” I asserted vigorously. “You can stop pretending that you’re not a devil! There’s nothing wrong with it, and, I’m not afraid anymore, okay? It’s all fine by me, now!” Well, even if that wasn’t entirely true yet, it was as true as it needed to be. “Whatever diabolical thing that’s running through your head right now—if you want it, then I want it, too!” I licked my dry lips. “Please, would you k-kiss me again?”

He maintained his silence. Fortunately, he did permit himself to lower his head to mine, and I gladly raised mine to his. It was the softest of presses that he bestowed on me. Oddly, there was none of his lustful energy to it. The warmth of his caress reached deep into me; the feeling was as charming and sweet as always, but with a melancholic overtone. There was no distance between him and my spirit; I could feel his overpowering sadness.

I pulled back. “Y-You have my permission, to do whatever it is you want to me,” I offered brightly, having fooled myself into believing that the binding of the contract must be the guilty party. I bounced on my feet like the animal he’d christened me after. “You don’t have to wait for me anymore. I’m ready now, I swear it. I, um, I won’t lose my nerves again! If you’d only, um, go slowly—”

Raffles hastily let go of me. “No, my lord.”

I froze. 

A cold shadow had fallen over his features. “This is intolerable,” he muttered.

My heart had broken into shivering pieces. I had tried so hard, and in the end I had ruined everything. I tried to say his name, and failed to.

“Ah, no, don’t be so miserable, Bunny…” His fists clenched. Something compelled him to cross his arms, and take two steps away from me. “Don’t be so dashed considerate for my sake,” he whispered in a rage. “Don’t let me win so soon!”

“I-I d-don’t understand.” I had to grab onto the bedpost to keep from falling over like a lonely, abandoned tower. “I thought you wanted me?”

“My dear Bunny, really!” Raffles scoffed with fervour. “I want you, everything about you, and nothing save you, for as long as we exist! Ah, it can’t be helped…” He looked away. “I would be much obliged to you, my lord, if you would rescind the very generous permission that you have just given me. I would rather not have to fear the possibility of losing control to my urges.”

“They’re, um, not a problem to me, you know.” I made an effort to regain the distance that Raffles had put between us. “I trust you, Raffles—”

Raffles spun back to me. “Ha! You trust me, after the atrocious thing I’ve done to you? You don’t see it, do you? You’ve been robbed of everything, by this hateful contract of my own doing!” He grabbed me by my shoulders. I only stared at him. “You haven’t even lived for thirty years! You couldn’t possibly understand what it means to be imprisoned for the rest of eternity—Wormwood Scrubs forever, without a chance at parole!” 

As much as it pained me to hear his distress, I couldn’t comprehend his concern. Prison and Raffles’ hell were nothing unlike. From my point of view, my contract with Raffles had robbed me of nothing. It was all thanks to that contract that I had gained a flawless valet, the fellow who had been my best friend for five years.

He closed his eyes and kissed my forehead. My skin tingled as his remorse and his desperate need flowed between us and consumed me. “Even by the low standards of my kind,” he whispered, “the contract I made with you was a heinous one. Most devils with evil contracts consume their awarded souls, and the torment ends there. You, however, will never have any relief from me. Hell will be the absolute end for the both of us, Bunny. There will never be other people, except the wretched demons and sinners of hell. I will violate your clean soul—for days at a time. Oh, I’ve made up excuses for it. I’ve told myself that I will find a way to make it suit you, as it suits me. Suit you! What tosh! Did any sorry creature ever lie to himself better? The truth is that my gentle, harmless Bunny—a truer partner, there never was—will be locked in a cage with an insatiable, lecherous animal. Forever.”

Forever, I thought, with no one but Raffles? That was indeed the afterlife that suited me the best. His need coursing through me was twisting with my own, until I couldn’t quite tell apart his feelings from mine.

“If I void the contract, Bunny, then your soul will certainly go to heaven at the end of your innings. That’s where you belong, heaven. I will never see you again after that, though nothing will prevent me from haunting this flat while you yet live. That’s not so bad an outcome for a devil, is it? That will have to be good enough for me.”

No, it wouldn’t be fair of me to let him go on like this. It wouldn’t be kind of me. It wouldn’t be honest.

Fairness; kindness; honesty; the excruciating disorder of my thoughts gave me pause. Were these the genuine reasons for which I couldn’t leave Raffles? They were the reasons I had used to justify giving in to him before; but this time, I didn’t like any of them. Not one of those sentiments could explain why it was so frighteningly easy for me to forsake all of humanity and stick by him alone. 

Raffles had been making excuses for indulging in his obsession for his beloved. It had taken his confession of it for me to realise that I was guilty of the exact same crime.

My epiphany rushed out of me. “No! I love you!” I embraced him close to me. “Please, don’t do anything to the contract! I don’t want to leave you, not ever!”

“Bunny.” Raffles spoke my name with reverence. His arms came cautiously around me.

“Raffles, I love you! And I love this peculiar, bizarre life that we have together! And I’m dreadfully guilty about it! What outrageous luck I was born with! I get to have such happiness that I did so awfully little to earn. I should be so ashamed of myself, and how much I’m hooked by it when you’re intimate with me, but what you do to me, it’s so terrifically good. And when we put our black masks on, and skulk about and make fools of everyone… damn it, that’s awful fun, too! I know it’s wrong, and it’s all so unabashedly criminal, but when I’m criminal at your side—oh, it’s—! It’s pure magic! I’ve never needed anyone else, and, no one else has ever needed me, so—please! Take my soul; drown it in sin; only, never let it go!”

I held my breath. I was half-expecting Raffles to lose control of himself right then and there. He didn’t. Instead, he calmly picked me up, as a groom would hold his bride on their wedding night.

Feeling like a schoolboy on my first day of school again, I grasped his arms and blushed.

“I’m afraid I can’t say anything beautiful enough to match what you have said to me, my lord.” He took a few steps with me in his arms, and laid me along the bed. In the light of the candles I had optimistically set, he was glittering and beautiful. He smiled down at me. 

“W-What happens now?” My weak voice broke halfway through my asking.

“You are in charge, my lord. What do you say happens now?”

“I… I don’t know…” I reached for him. “Join me, please?”

Slowly, he crawled on top of me. A few seconds later, and his elbows and knees were all around me. 

I didn’t mean to get ahead of myself, but I was already trembling all over my body with excitement. By simply crawling on top of me, he had rendered me helplessly eager.

His gloved finger traced above my ear. “Will you say it again?”

“Say… what?”

He smirked fondly. “Say, I love you.”

I granted his wish. “I-I love you.” It was embarrassing to repeat, but my man was so affected by the words that gladly I said them again. “I love you.”

The knowing smirk that Raffles had donned melted into something smitten. “Oh, my dear Bunny,” he sighed. “If ever a demon can be said to have had so virtuous a feeling, then love is what I feel for you as well.”

I was delighted to hear him say so. In fact, it sent a dizzying rush to my head. A mysterious sense of finality and fulfilment struck me.

“There’s something I want to show you,” he said. “Would you like to see?”

I wondered, a surprise? I gave him an enthusiastic nod.

He sat back, on my legs. He shrugged off his tailcoat, and let it fall onto the space of the bedsheets beside him. Then he threw off his bowtie, and unbuttoned the top few notches of his white shirt. “Watch me.” He pulled his shirt and low-cut vest partially off, to reveal the thin undershirt that he wore. He turned away, and tugged down at his undershirt. 

I gasped. There, on the nape of his neck, was the ornate black pentagram that symbolised our association. It resembled mine in every detail.

“This mark will never go away, my lord. As long as I am your valet, or you are my prize, the contract will remain on us. If ever I acted imprudently, our marks rang as one, and made my dishonour clear to both of us.” There was some small irritation in his tone. He faced me again before I could dwell on it. “If ever you wish to hold me back, you can use the mark, Bunny; but it won’t be necessary. Your voice has more power over me than does the contract. Tell me to stop, and that will always do; I will stop.”

“Okay.”

Raffles picked up his coat, and began to slide it back onto his torso.

I wasn’t able to hide the disappointment that hit me. “Oh, um…”

Raffles guessed perfectly at what I was thinking. He put his coat back on the bed. “I take it you prefer me in shirtsleeves, my lord?”

I was too nervous to admit that I preferred if he had even fewer clothes on, at this moment. “Yes, well…” I tried to redirect the subject. “You prefer me in a gown, and that’s not so different…”

Raffles returned to crouching over me. His hands found purchase against mine. “No, my lord; I only prefer you to be dressed for your own comfort,” he winked, “and for me to be dressed in the way that most impresses you.”

That chivalrous sentiment warmed my heart so much that I laughed. 

Raffles leaned forward, to kiss my neck. Unlike the touches that had come before, this one was passionate; he parted his lips, and proceeded to suck at my skin with great ardour.

Tendrils of pure pleasure slipped through my every nerve. He was filling me with an obscene want for more, as he drank all the strength out of me. He bit down gently on my vulnerable skin, and I moaned at the inexcusably golden feeling of it. “A-Are you a demon,” I managed to say, “or a vampire?”

A dark chuckle vibrated through the air and my body. “A demon, my lord.” Raffles drew a path with his wet tongue down my neck, to the edge of my clavicle. 

It was profoundly humiliating, in the best possible way. My jaw fell at the intoxicating sensation of his tongue on my skin, and my head rolled back. He was tasting my soul, and I relished it. I willed that my soul give itself up to him completely, for him to enjoy to the fullest.

There was a wonderfully low and unholy groan from my man’s throat. He released my hands. “You are so beautiful…” He untied the front of my gown, at a flirtatious pace that thrilled me. “My dear little Bunny, my dear little soul…” He opened my gown, and admired the indecent sight of me. There was only my undershirt and shorts to partially conceal me; I might as well have been naked. There could be no illusion of how aroused he’d made me.

“Raffles,” I whispered, to protest the lewd, ravenous way he was gazing all over me, but it was a protest without strength.

He made a farcical gesture of apology with a bow of his head. “Pray, forgive my absentmindedness. The sight of pretty things is my greatest weakness.” He unbuttoned my undershirt, and helped my arms through the sleeves, so that he could dispense with the article completely. 

That left only my shorts on me. “Is there, um, something I should be doing?” I asked with too speedy a voice. “Something you want me to do, I mean?”

He rewarded me with laughing eyes. “My lord, aren’t you doing enough for me?” He removed his gloves, and let the pair join his tailcoat on the sheets beside us. 

I stared wide-eyed at his exposed hands, even though there was no outward evidence of the obscene power that I knew them to wield over me.

Raffles noticed. “How do you feel just now, Bunny?” He kept his hands carefully away from me. “If you’re having second thoughts—” 

“No, please!” I wouldn’t let him finish such a horrendous thought, nor would I let him fall again into his old routine of self-restraint. Things were going to be different between us, from now on. “Please,” I said again, with more urgency. I was hot and aching for him. 

Raffles tore off my shorts, straight down and out from under my feet. He glowed with desire as he looked me over.

I reflexively covered my face. I couldn’t look, but I was going mad from how much I wanted him. My hips humped the air on their own accord, and fresh humiliation flushed through me.

He firmly pinned my hips down. The hazy touch of his fingers on my skin captivated me. “Say it for me again, Bunny.” The human qualities of his voice were fading. His words echoed strangely, and fell deep in pitch. “I want to hear you say it. One more time.”

I was quiet, and shy, but I didn’t hesitate to oblige him. I still couldn’t bring myself to look, so I said the three words into my own palms. “I love you.” 

Then he stroked me along my length, and I was lost. 

It was wicked, and gloriously good. All I managed in the way of decency was to bite my own knuckle, in a vain attempt to keep myself from mewling wantonly. Besides for that, I surrendered to how good it felt. I rocked stutteringly into his steady grip. My shivering legs spread wider for him, silently begging for more of his caresses. 

He moaned with pleasure. “Oh, Bunny. I will never have enough of you.” All of the human aspects of his voice were completely gone. Every syllable that he spoke dripped with a demonic thirst. He kissed down my neck again; I held onto his shoulders as he used me. “Your soul is divine. It’s all I could ever want.” The hand of his that was holding my hips slid down my thigh, to fondly run over my half of our contract.

I would never have enough of him, either. The plain and lonely joys of my earthly life paled hideously in comparison to what he gave me.

He kissed down my bare chest. “Some day—when you are ready for it—I will make fervent love to you. I will rub you down your back, and whisper sweet praises to you, until you are relaxed, at ease. Then I will slowly and easily slick you with my fingers, and watch how they move you, until at last you are open to me and I can push deep inside your gentle, innocent soul. I will thrust into you, over and over—“—these very shocking and unrepeatable words were spoken in time with his caresses—“—and your soul will shine brightly and beautifully with euphoria. Ah, you will be ideal for me. Your sweet gratification will be my own. It will suit me splendidly. I might even continue with whatever conservation we were having before, as naturally as if I was not deluging you with sin. Oh, I can imagine nothing more decadent than discussing trivialities with you while I defile you. But a demon’s lust is never sated, Bunny; when I have finally driven us both to the height of pleasure, you will collapse in exhaustion and I will not. I will hug you to me softly while you rest, as a fulfilled lover would hold you, but in truth I will yearn for your soul as painfully as before.”

A need to reciprocate his excess of feelings possessed me. I reached for the curly black hair behind his ears, and brought him in for a kiss of my own. It was an extraordinarily clumsy and reckless move on my part; I had very little experience kissing and I could certainly not be at my best at the moment. It seemed to mean a great deal to my dear valet, though. He cheerfully threw himself into my awkward lead, and his eager reception gave me some courage. My useless sense of propriety burned me for daring to kiss him; I stuck my tongue down his warm throat to spite it.

That earned a worthy astonishment on the part of Raffles, which was an outcome for which I enjoyed no small degree of pride. He was so impressed that, for a few seconds, he lost awareness of his strokes. Then, he went on stroking me, and welcomed my deep kiss. It was an amazing feeling, to be adored by him while he let my heedless gesture of affection into himself. He was an extraordinary demon, and yet he seemed so human when our bodies matched together.

I didn’t have breath enough in me to make it last. I let go of his hair, dropped my head, and put up no resistance to the vulgarity of the noises escaping me.

“That was brilliantly brave, my lord. You didn’t let me finish, what with your very delightful kisses.” Ever the rascal, Raffles tutted playfully at me. I was once more struck by the intense, velvety richness that his familiar voice had assumed.

I suspected that Raffles would happily go on forever about this particular subject, but I cut him off. “I’m ready!” I declared. That probably wasn’t true of me. I was both terrified and enthralled by the idea of Raffles taking me almost as if I were a woman. I thought it might hurt—but that was much less important to me than my feelings for the chap who thought of me as his partner.

A flash of incredulous appreciation crossed Raffles’ handsome face. I had seen that breed of flash before, on those occasions when I agreed wholeheartedly to partner him in an earthly crime that he had schemed. “No, my lord, that isn’t necessary,” he said.

“But, I-I am ready!” I had the nerve to start turning myself over onto my stomach, for I was fairly certain that such intercourse between two men would require that position of me. 

Raffles stopped me. “No,” he said unwaveringly, though there was sympathy in the way he settled me back into place. “Forgive me; but I implore you, not so soon, Bunny,” he murmured more softly. He kissed my cheek. The warm, mind-numbing touch of his palm became even more obsessed with me.

I swore his name under my breath, and hugged him to me. I relished what I could feel of him, and hated the remaining clothes he wore. It was laughably frustrating; even though those garments were not thick, they were just thick enough to keep him from sensing my spirit through them. The material of his clothes was sharp to me; it could only be the case that I was grinding into him.

“But you tempt me, old boy,” he said in a severe tone. “You tempt me sorely.”

In my madness, I was glad that I did. I cleared my throat. “I, um, interrupted you, just now….” Somehow, for this instant, my nerves were steady enough for me to not stutter, mewl, or panic overmuch. “Go on, please… about what you will do to me?”

Raffles’ eyes widened. “Oh, my lord, you are too kind!” It floored me how gloriously excited my dear valet was by my meagre request. “Well, then I must tell you. Where did I leave off? I do believe you were collapsed on my bed, and I was playing the part of the patient gentleman. What a pretty image that notion suggests. How fitting, too. One ought to treat one’s innocent master like an angel.”

“I’m not innocent!” I gasped out. My shame wouldn’t impede me anymore, but my shame did remain.

Raffles scoffed fondly. “You are innocent and an angel, my lord. Perhaps no longer innocent by mankind, but always innocent by me. There is such ugly coldness and hate in the souls of men, save yours. Other souls turn away from me on instinct; not yours. Even when I seduce your gorgeous soul into depravity,” he crooned, “you stand by me, warm and shining. The kindness and forgiveness of an angel! Yes, I will comport myself to be a very fine gentleman to you, and offer you a cigarette or a drink while you rest. Then, when my deathless lust soaks into you again and your rest ends, I will again have you. Maybe on the bed again, maybe somewhere else; maybe with instruments, maybe without; there is little difference to me, as long as it is your kind soul that I am pleasing and penetrating, the details will come on their own. I might rouse the envious curiosity of all of hell with the sweet cries that I steal from you, but none of them shall ever know you. No one else can ever touch you. You will be mine. Your inviting soul, your gentle hands, your pale arms and legs, the pretty freckles of your face. You are all mine—mine, my best and only score! Ah, look at you! Are you close, now?”

I wasn’t much able to answer him. Several sentences ago, I had considered telling him that he was describing not the soul of an angel, but simply the soul of someone who cared about him; when I tried to do so, the sole noise that survived out of me was a keen whimper. 

With the beautiful dexterity of a serpent, Raffles sank down to my thighs, dropped his jaw, and swallowed me voraciously into his throat. Everything in the world went perfectly white. I still called my demon’s name, and I heard him work his mouth on me; that was all I could hear. What left the strongest impression on me were the deeply gratified moans that Raffles let out. When my awareness returned faintly to me, the very first thought of mine was to wonder if he could have possibly swallowed some immortal part of me. That shouldn’t be possible, however, and in any event I was too drained to ask.

It hadn’t been enough for him. He had promised that before, and he made it clear to me now. I knew he must have thoroughly delighted in what taste he’d had of me, yet his bare fingers refused to leave me. They skimmed along my arms and torso, drawing little shapes into the canvas of my body. They dug into my hair, to claim the top of my head. It was relaxing. I felt at peace, and admired.

And because I admired him, too, I let him know it. “That was brilliant.”

“You flatter me, my lord,” Raffles demurred. He paused, for some little time, before asking, “Will you say it, once more?”

I would be going to hell with as helpless and bashful a smile as any blessed man ever wore. “Absolutely. I love you.”

My words thrilled him. Quite fiendishly, he affected to not be satisfied. “One more time?”

“I love you.”

“Hm… once more?”

My face was steaming. I crossed my arms. “R-Raffles!”

“Ah, no? Do I ask too much? What a shame!” he declared histrionically. “Your innocent soul tastes so pleasingly sweet when you say it!”

That made me wonder. I would never live this down—but still I put my hands on his, and like I fool I declared, “If that’s the case, then: Raffles, I love you!”

Raffles shuddered, from his hands to his feet. With a glittering passion, he cried, “Why, you rabbit!” He meant to retake his hands and caress my body again, but my own grip upon him was resolute. He pulled and I pulled until we were both well and truly rolling around carelessly on the bedsheets and our discarded clothes, laughing for the joy of it.

End.


End file.
